Policing the Home Front 1914-1918: The Control of the British Population at War 1138565245, 9781138565241

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Policing the Home Front 1914-1918: The Control of the British Population at War
 1138565245, 9781138565241

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Policing the Home Front 1914–1918

The police during the First World War in Great Britain were central to the control of the population. This book shows the new challenges involved in police work in wartime, their struggles in carrying out government initiatives and their impact on the daily lives of all levels of society. It tells the story of the police as they saw themselves through the pages of their bestknown journal, The Police Review and Parade Gossip, and uses a wide range of other published, archival and private sources. Mary Fraser was a Senior Lecturer in the Department of Government, University of Strathclyde, and has held public appointments in health care in both England and Scotland. She is the author of Using Conceptual Nursing in Practice: A Research-Based Approach published in 1990, which was reprinted in 1993; a second edition was published in 1996. She is also the author of over 50 peer-reviewed journal articles. She is currently an Associate of the Scottish Centre for Crime & Justice Research (SCCJR).

Routledge Studies in First World War History Series Editor: John Bourne, The University of Birmingham, UK

The First World War is a subject of perennial interest to historians and is often regarded as a watershed event, marking the end of the nineteenth century and the beginning of the “modern” industrial world. The sheer scale of the conflict and massive loss of life means that it is constantly being assessed and reassessed to examine its lasting military, political, sociological, industrial, cultural and economic impact. Reflecting the latest international scholarly research, the Routledge Studies in First World War History series provides a unique platform for the publication of monographs on all aspects of the Great War. Whilst the main thrust of the series is on the military aspects of the conflict, other related areas (including cultural, visual, literary, political and social) are also addressed. Books published are aimed primarily at a post-graduate academic audience, furthering exciting recent interpretations of the war, whilst still being accessible enough to appeal to a wider audience of educated lay readers. The Royal Flying Corps, the Western Front and the Control of the Air, 1914–1918 James Pugh The Great War and the British Empire Culture and Society Edited by Michael J.K. Walsh and Andrekos Varnava Aerial Propaganda and the Wartime Occupation of France, 1914–18 Bernard Wilkin Policing the Home Front 1914–1918 The control of the British population at war Mary Fraser

https://www.routledge.com/history/series/WWI

Policing the Home Front 1914–1918 The Control of the British Population at War Mary Fraser

First published 2019 by Routledge 2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN and by Routledge 52 Vanderbilt Avenue, New York, NY 10017 Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business © 2019 Mary Fraser The right of Mary Fraser to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe. British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Names: Fraser, Mary, author. Title: Policing the home front in Britain, 1914–1918: the control of the British population at war / Mary Fraser. Description: New York: Routledge, 2019. | Includes index. Identifiers: LCCN 2018039520 (print) | LCCN 2018049499 (ebook) | ISBN 9781315122922 (Main) | ISBN 9781351345576 (pdf) | ISBN 9781351345569 (ePub) | ISBN 9781351345552 (Mobi) | ISBN 9781138565241 | ISBN 9781315122922 (ebk) Subjects: LCSH: Police—Great Britain—History—20th century. | World War, 1914–1918—Great Britain. Classification: LCC HV8195.A2 (ebook) | LCC HV8195.A2 F73 2019 (print) | DDC 363.2/3094109041—dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018039520 ISBN: 978-1-138-56524-1 (hbk) ISBN: 978-1-315-12292-2 (ebk) Typeset in Times New Roman by codeMantra

To Colin

Contents

List of images List of tables Acknowledgements

ix xi xiii

1 Introduction 1 2 The police before the Great War 11 3 Controversies over the War Separation Allowance 29 4 Policing alcohol 63 5 The rise of women? 84 6 Living costs 106 7 Pensions and philanthropy 122 8 Conscription and the police 135 9 Policing sexual morality 162 10 The police as ploughmen and farm workers 192 11 Flashpoints and tensions 213 12 Youth crime 230 13 The police and food control 247

viii Contents

14 The corrupting effects of the cinema 257 15 Conclusions to Policing the Home Front 1914–1918 265 Appendix: the work of Michel Foucault (1926–1984) Index

269 277

List of images

Front cover of The Police Review, 15 November 1918 (Chapter 1) 3 Canadian soldiers marching down The Leas, Folkesone (Chapter 9) 167 Memorial to Canadian soldiers on The Leas, Folkestone (Chapter 9) 168

List of tables

1 2 3

Drunkenness in Aberdeen before and after Liquor Control in 1915 (Chapter 3) 53 Convictions on the North East Coast before and after Regulations (Chapter 4) 72 Prosecutions and Convictions under the Food Control Orders 1918 (Chapter 13) 249

Acknowledgements

This book has been 10 years in the making. It has involved gaining access to both public and private sources of written material. Many people have helped to ease access and point me in the right direction. It has also involved many people who have offered advice and reviewed book proposals, chapters and references. I am most grateful to them all. I’d particularly like to thank my husband, Colin, who has encouraged me to have the space and to continue with the enthusiasm for this work. We often talk about the issues involved in this book and he has been one of my best ambassadors for its publication. He continues to review all my chapters for which I am most grateful. Initially, I gained access to the Scottish Police College, Tulliallan, Kincardine, by writing to Mrs Margaret Barr, Deputy Chief Constable. This gave me access to Polly St Aubyn, Librarian in the Police College, who pointed me to their back copies of The Police Review, which on inspection was very appropriate for the work I aimed to carry out. I visited the Police College Library on many occasions during my data collection period and Polly was always on hand to offer advice and assistance. She even invited me to a lecture in the Police College so that I could feel a sense of how training was organised. I found it charming that on my way down any corridor, if I came across a group of around 16 police students heading in my direction, every one of them would say “good morning/afternoon ma’m” as we passed – I wish them all well. I also met the deputy librarian, now librarian, Pat Archibald, who was most helpful and with whom I still have contact for advice, help and further research. I have very fond memories of my visits and contact with them all, also at the splendour of the buildings, newly refurbished at the time of the G8 Summit at Gleneagles, as an alternative venue. Before approaching a publisher, I was invited to lecture on the controversies surrounding the War Separation Allowance (Chapter 3) to the Royal Philosophical Society of Glasgow, an ancient Society of around 900 members. I was pleased to see that they found it an interesting topic and asked numerous questions, many of which I have incorporated into the chapter. This was encouraging.

xiv Acknowledgements Where would all historians be without the National Archives at Kew? What a wonderful experience to see the original documents and how speedy and efficient is the service to obtain them. I spent many happy hours in their reading room photographing the most exciting finds! Writing the book involved contact with Professor Hamish Scott, who advised on publishers and the original proposal. His friendship and help is most valuable. I am grateful to Rob Langham, Senior Publisher for History at Routledge, for his most helpful advice and speedy replies to my queries. Professors James Mitchell and Clive Emsley also gave helpful advice in the early stages of the project. Felicity Grainger offered to review the references, a massive task and most appreciated. Others such as Iain and Marjory Smith volunteered to review individual chapters. Their suggestions and comments were insightful. I wished to make widely known many of the issues that I have written about in this book by writing a blog: Colin Clark, IT Manager from the Enterprise Company, gave me invaluable help in setting up my blog and continues to advise as it develops. I’m most grateful to more recent friends and organisations. Police historian Mark Rothwell gave helpful advice on some of the police conditions of service at the time, and Professor Louise Jackson, Dr Philip Tonner, Dr Heather Jones and Dr William Butler have provided material and commented on aspects of the work – I am most grateful to them. I also spent an interesting day at the National Archives presentation with Andrew ­Maunder from the University of Hertfordshire and Helen Brooks from the University of Kent. Their work on spies in the First World War brought new insights. My recent acceptance as an associate member of the Scottish Centre for Crime and Justice Research, with links to many academic institutions across Scotland, will no doubt provide further collaborations.

1 Introduction

By the beginning of the First World War, the modern police was e­ stablished as a British institution, having developed since the early nineteenth century. The First World War made massive changes to the population of Britain at home, including to the police service and its individual officers. The police service outside London became increasingly c­ entralised, ­responsible directly to the Home Office, pushing the provincial local ­authority ­structures to one side. The service had to adjust to collapsing numbers of officers, ­supplemented with large numbers of special constables and allowing the extension of new roles for women. Furthermore, no longer were individual officers able to carry out their duties as before; many new duties were thrust upon them as the national emergency of war made increasing demands on the Home Front. But it was not just the policeman who was affected; his wife and family also fared badly due to soaring prices and food shortages. As police families were incorporated within the police service, their stories of hardship and of concern for their male breadwinner policeman’s health and ability to do his job make distressing reading. This book tells the social history of the work of the civilian police on the Home Front in the First World War, their lives and work as they were ­represented in the pages of their most popular weekly journal of the time The Police Review and Parade Gossip,1 the organ of the British ­constabulary. The journal included letters by individual officers and their wives and ­columns to try to support them in their struggles, such as with conscription and the moral crisis over the uncontrollable spread of venereal disease to the troops. This sense of camaraderie which the journal encouraged kept individual officers and their families in touch with others nationally and provided a forum for debates. It also gave answers to questions about the police service such as eligibility for the police pension. It was noteworthy for its campaigning by pressing for police reforms, such as the weekly rest day granted by Act of Parliament in 1910. Also published were debates in the Houses of Parliament that showed readers the issues at national and often international level, which affected the police, as well as articles on topical issues of the day to demonstrate how the good policeman and his

2 Introduction family should behave which provided them with insights into other police forces around Britain. Its education column gave challenging questions on the implementation of the law as well as basic literacy and numeracy skills in a quest for self-improvement and editorials, which frequently expressed strong views on topical issues. The Police Review provides the material for analysis of what Foucault calls the discursive practices in this book [1]. The Police Review has been heralded by many, not only at that time but also to this day, as making a huge contribution to the lives and work of the ordinary policeman on the beat. It was set up in 1893 by ­philanthropist John Kempster (1836–1916), a temperance campaigner, born in ­Congleton, Cheshire. A tribute by the Crime Correspondent of The Times, Adam Fresco, on 15 January 2010 said, The Police Review and Parade Gossip, as the magazine was first called, has a tradition of campaigning for police officers and is read by all ranks. It was set up in 1893 with the help of a philanthropist who ­invested his £500 savings because he felt that officers needed somewhere to air their grievances and be given a chance to improve standards of education and training. The introduction to the first edition promised to “cultivate the self-respect of the constabulary of this country, to raise them in the esteem and regard of all their fellow citizens”. … You can’t beat Police Review for forceful opinions – and the best gossip. Writers on police history, Clapson and Emsley, also celebrated The Police Review and its editor, calling him enthusiastic and forceful with his aim for the journal to be a mouthpiece for the respectable, educated working man who served to be a policeman and also had rights as a citizen. The journal gave a strong sense of professionalism to its readers by mediating between a public service, the policeman’s self-improvement and the career structure within which he worked. It was specifically aimed at police constables and reinforced the idea of policing as a career [2]. It encouraged the moral values of stability, self-improvement, thrift and sobriety, and had a clear view of the policeman as respectable, self-disciplined and self-taught, which was close to that advocated by police officials. It spoke the language of self-help, fair treatment and improved working conditions, which contributed to police work being seen as a respectable career with promotion prospects. During the First World War, when police officers were vulnerable financially due to poor pay, were restricted in their ability to organise themselves to press for better conditions and wanted to be recognised as having specialist skills, their weekly journal performed a valuable role in providing a voice. But the journal broke with the police union in December 1913, due to its insistence on the right to strike and thereafter refused to place any advertisements for it [3], although this decision had been revoked by November 1918, as shown in the picture of the front cover of The Police Review of 15 November 1918, the first publication following the Armistice.

Introduction  3

Front cover of The Police Review, 15 November 1918.

Widely read and influential journals such as The Police Review are ­i mportant sources for historical research: Newspapers of various kinds reflected the views of their readers, and also encouraged them to form certain opinions through the articles they produced; then, as now, the press was both a reflector and arbiter of opinion. No paper could afford to be too much out of step with its readership. [4] In order to continue to attract and keep its readers, any publication will have to reflect their views and, with a professional journal, the views of the

4 Introduction organisation in which they work. However, The Police Review, like most journals, was not impartial; its influence was to show its readers how to behave and to work as the good policeman and citizen and to uphold the moral values of the day. This book will therefore represent many aspects of what life was like for the good hard-working policeman on the beat during the First World War with his struggles and challenges, which shows the way power operated in society. It also gives glimpses of his family, particularly his wife, who was shown as a model to all police wives in Britain by faithfully supporting her husband and children, particularly during difficult times. But for us to understand fully the context of the issues for the ­policeman and his family at the time as represented in their journal, it is necessary to have been there. Failing that, the best one can do is to source other ­original documents, including newspaper articles and secondary ­scholarly sources, which together give a good indication of the context of the issues involved. Therefore, this analysis of The Police Review, which is the ­primary text [5], is supplemented by material from the National Archives at Kew, The ­British Library, The Imperial War Museum, newspaper archives and ­scholarly work, including books and peer-reviewed journal articles (lists of which can be found in the references at the end of each chapter), which form the ­secondary texts [6]. Combined, these secondary sources help us to ­understand the issues for the police and the challenges they and their ­families faced, represented in each of the following chapters; they form many of ­Foucault’s non-discursive practices [7], as they deal with social ­institutions and ­practices [8]. Whereas Foucault used selected local and ­m inor documents to show the local social practices, a further d ­ imension to this book is the use of a traditional ­h istorical approach to uncover ­ ocuments particularly relating to struggles and conflict; an many of the d ­example can be seen in the many individual and organised women, and the many ­labour organisations who resisted police surveillance over the war ­separation ­allowance. While this is not claimed to be an exhaustive search, the numbers and extent of the documents found give not just instances of resistance but a fuller picture of the level of antipathy nationally and who was involved. The use of Foucault allows us to see not only the representations of power over the individual policeman, by the knowledge and rules that governed his work and behaviour and the knowledge of him built up by his senior officers and local and national government, but also the power the policeman and the organisation of policing had over the population at home, by building up knowledge about them through police work. Knowledge of the population in this book is seen through the involvement of medicine, psychology, social work, pedagogy, religion and criminology which allows the judgement of individuals into good/bad, respectable/non-respectable, moral/immoral and, once knowledge is gained, into levels of categorisation, for example, levels of fitness to join the army. With government concern over

Introduction  5 the population, knowledge was also built up through keeping records on an individual’s age, marital status, employment and more, such as through the Derby Scheme. Knowledge of the population of use to social institutions such as the police also came from the collection of statistics, for example, on birth rates, death rates, legitimate and illegitimate births, age profiles, numbers of people with particular types of disease, food purchasing habits in different locations and so on. But we should not assume that the aims of any such social programmes or forms of domination have actually been met. The struggles and forms of resistance, which Foucault says accompany the exercise of power and are ­intrinsic to it, disrupt the programmes of social action so that ­unintended outcomes result [9]. For example, in this book, we see how soldiers were bound to declare to the military authorities if they had contracted ­venereal disease. However, this led to their being hospitalised for lengthy periods, taking them off the front line, while the treatment made them feel ­unwell, whereas before treatment they were declared by the army to be fit, this disrupted the aims of the army which needed the maximum number of fit young men to fight. In this book, we also see government developing many programmes to r­ ecruit men, including policemen, into the army but with increasing resistance by many as the war continued, including by their ­families. This resulted in many changes in the government programmes as the war progressed, such as increasing the age of conscription and lowering the level of acceptable fitness to be conscripted. As Foucault analysed text within social institutions, his work gives ­structure and insight into the representations of the work of the p ­ oliceman on the beat and the culture in which he worked during the First World War. This analysis brings local and minor knowledge to life, while ­showing how this knowledge builds up to structures and processes at national and ­international levels. But there are multiple discursive practices, which ­include surveillance, asking questions and interpreting answers, corporal punishment, fines and imprisonment, rather than a single practice which has been a criticism of Foucault’s Discipline and Punish [10]. For a summary of some of the central tenets of Foucault’s work and how they are useful for an understanding of police work during the First World War see the Appendix. The following chapters in this book start with a traditional history of the organisation of police services from what is largely recognised as the start of modern policing – the establishment of the Metropolitan Police in 1829 – and follows the establishment of services across Britain with all the twists and turns they underwent up to the end of the First World War. This forms Chapter 2, which gives a background to the civilian police service in the First World War. The chapters which follow are the substantive chapters analysing The Police Review and show the discourses which emerged. Each discourse ­developed from the many similar entries in the journal which are grouped

6 Introduction to form each discourse. The chapters are presented in chronological ­order by when each discourse was identified in the journal. Therefore, some ­chapters are longer than others, particularly those at the start of the book, as there was more time for these discourses to develop during the 4 years of the war. In Chapter 3, the discourses of increased government control and ­patriarchy enabled a War Separation Allowance to be given to all wives of soldiers and sailors recruited into the army or navy. However, it took many months for the administration to become efficient by setting up both ­national and local administration. It also took many years for the g­ overnment to ­establish control of funding for wives and to push ­voluntary organisations to one side. The army saw the nation’s wives as needing to be controlled, ­similar to army wives, using a patriarchal discourse to ­describe them as ­ olice were unable to manage their money without male supervision. The p asked to act as surrogate husbands by surveillance of all wives in ­receipt of the allowance. Police forces received cards on which were the wives’ ­details to enable surveillance. The Police Review published s­ trategies by two of the larger police forces to only allow access to this information by a small group of senior policemen, showing how the good police force should behave; it also printed the police dislike of the surveillance of all women, as this was not a police role. The press and questions in ­Parliament made police ­surveillance of the wives known nationally and created a n ­ ational uproar in which many individual wives became organised to protest. ­Organised women and labour organisations also vehemently protested that wives did not need s­ upervision in how to spend their money and that it insulted them. The army was ­accused of not knowing how to treat civilians. Further into the war, the police refused to deliver similar letters to wives due to the ­previous protests. However, some Chief Constables argued with their Watch Committee that such measures were necessary to warn women that if they overindulged in alcohol and were prosecuted, this could result in a criminal conviction and the loss of their allowance. Police involvement in the discourse of the control of drunkenness forms Chapter 4. This continued decades of appeals by religious and ­abstentionist groups for voluntary abstention, but the control of drunkenness took a new turn portrayed as national efficiency necessary to win the war. ­Government control saw increasing limitations on public house opening hours and ­restrictions on who could buy drink with food, as well as limiting a­ lcohol intake amongst certain groups of workers to increase the production of war materials. Police statistics of categories of arrests for drunkenness became a ­ runkards focus, as did the involvement of medicine in the examination of d to categorise who should be incarcerated in which type of institution. The drinks industry protested against government measures. The decline of ­government control of drunkenness occurred when the raw products for the production of alcoholic drinks became necessary to divert to food production.

Introduction  7 The discourse of gender-specific roles in the police was seen from the ­ utset of war and became increasingly vociferous as the war continued. o Chapter 5 shows how women continually tried to provide a service either separate from the police or as part of the service and the strategies and ­tactics used to ­restrict their roles by the police themselves and by the Home Office, ­although they were praised for their work in minimising the spread of ­venereal disease to the Dominion’s troops. Their continual struggle to carve out a role led to their segregation into specific roles with women and ­children, which included supervision of the mainly female workforce in the munitions factories. For many, their struggle for acceptance within the ­police ended with mass redundancies at the end of the war when the ­munitions factories closed. Police wives and families were a crucial part of the extended police force. The discourse of the incorporated police wife in Chapter 6 shows her ­increasing struggle to feed her breadwinner husband who was portrayed as being out in all weathers on the beat, which required a good diet to ­maintain his stamina. With police pay not keeping pace with soaring food prices, the good incorporated police wife continued to develop strategies to make money while working at home, as well as going without food herself so that her husband could have more. The police family diet and budget was ­published in The Police Review with suggested recipes and ways of ­economising, showing increasing desperation as food supplies became more limited. The government established national and local strategies to feed the population, which the police journal made known to its readers, as well as establishing average calorific intakes for men using scientific methods. Chapter 7 describes the discourse of police pensions that saw much ­national debate and many changes to enable police wives and children to ­receive a pension on the death of their breadwinner. However, with war ­office pensions said to be generous, the police pension was not allowed to be given in addition, to the fury of the editor of The Police Review who accused the government of lack of generosity. A campaign by the journal resulted in each police force’s pension fund arrangements being published in the journal and also suggestions of alternative schemes to supplement pensions. ­Retirement with a pension was prevented by Act of Parliament to forbid ­policemen of retirement age who needed their pension from ­retiring until the ­ aintain ­police ­numbers. end of the war, represented as being necessary to m The  ­discourse of police philanthropy portrayed their s­ ocial ­conscience ­ hilanthropy for those who were seen as less fortunate than themselves; p brought the police closer to the poorer classes to enable surveillance, where most crime was said to be committed. Chapter 8, with its discourse of serving King and Country portraying Britishness, shows the immediate withdrawal from the police service of thousands of police reservists the day after war was declared, along with others who volunteered in the early days. It shows the police involved in ­controversy in efforts trying to recruit soldiers and checking certificates.

8 Introduction The government developed strategies to build up knowledge of every ­member of the population between certain ages, but recruitment into the army as a result was seen to fail, resulting in conscription in 1916. As the War ­Office made increasing demands on the population at home to ­enlist, Chief ­Constables often applied to Tribunals for exemptions for their o ­ fficers, ­saying their forces were at the minimum safe level. Increasing pressures on men of military age saw policemen continually “combed out” for army ­service, causing tensions between them, as some were granted release, while others were not, with claims of favouritism. The discourse of sexual morality saw many additions and shifts ­during the war to this age-old discourse. Chapter 9 starts with “khaki fever” amongst young women and girls, which brought consternation to ­policemen as they ­ olice and felt unable to deal with it, and it soon became a role for women p ­patrols. A year into the war, illegitimate births became an i­ ssue for the ­police, as well as suspected illegal abortions which could result in court actions ­enabling neighbours, relatives and friends to be involved in ­surveillance of ­ ational ­campaigns each other for signs of immorality. Widely publicised n showed that the war baby scandal was wildly ­exaggerated. A  ­further ­addition to the discourse was the spread of venereal disease amongst the troops, which the police were unable to halt. While infected soldiers were ­segregated for lengthy periods in hospital, unworkable Acts of Parliament were passed to try to weed out infected women at the insistence of the ­Dominions who said they were scandalised by the rate of infections. Chapter 10 shows the discourse of the need to produce home-grown food, which started in 1916. Increasing losses of imported food due to ­attacks by ­enemy warships led to government control of farming to increase ­home-grown food in an attempt to prevent the population from starving. Following many farm workers being recruited into the army, the ­government initially replaced them with men who were said by the farmers to be unsuitable for the work, leading to demoralisation of farmers. Appeals at local level led many police forces to lend their policemen with previous ploughing ­experience to farmers to plough up pasture, turning it into arable land during the planting and harvest seasons until the end of the war. Many policemen and their families also grew produce on allotments. ­ ountry Chapter 11 portrays the continuing discourse of serving King and C which saw increasing hostility between policemen and special c­ onstables and between each other. The increasing desperation by the army to ­continue to recruit fit young men of military age made those who remained at home and in the police subject to being criticised and ostracised by their c­ olleagues. The Police Review pleaded with police officials to develop schemes to release their younger officers that could be seen as fair to all. The combination of low pay, lack of a voice, increasing exhaustion and demoralisation by being unable to make their voice heard led to the Metropolitan police strike in late 1918, while the war was not yet won. This increased police union membership across Britain.

Introduction  9 Chapter 12 portrays police involvement in the discourse of youth crime, which was said to rise from the beginning of 1916 and alarmed the nation. The government published statistics gathered from police records around ­Britain showing the increase in youth crime, which confirmed police ­judgement that these crimes were mainly committed by the lower classes. In order to know the youthful offender better, his family also needed to be known in detail, leading to large-scale national surveys of both the o ­ ffender and his family. The discourse developed around the types and increased severity of crimes, how to deal with the juvenile offender and police tactics. The police saw themselves as part of the large network of social ­reformers, which grew with the government’s involvement in juvenile crime and ­monitoring of sentences meted out by magistrates. The discourse of the police and food control in Chapter 13 shows the ­increasing detail of people’s lives collected in statistics at local and national levels in the emergency of food control and the equalisation of supply of scarce foods across Britain. The Ministry of Food established local and national systems to regulate food supplies to which everyone must comply. Both individuals and retailers had to register to ensure everyone received their supply of scarce and rationed items. The police set up special units across Britain to advise retailers and the public on the legality of food ­purchase, consumption and hoarding as the government issued hundreds of orders and amendments about food. Rationing stopped huge food queues and prevented the threat of rioting. Towards the end of the war, the discourse of the corrupting effects of the cinema showed the huge increase in this form of entertainment for the masses. Chapter 14 shows how the police and local authorities regulated cinemas by granting a license and how women patrols in many areas ­v isited them in the name of upholding moral values and decency, particularly for children and young people. The government established an enquiry to ­assess the effects of the cinema, particularly in encouraging juvenile crime, which was controversial. The final chapter outlines the two distinct roles of the policeman in the First World War, both with the population they policed and their own ­position within the different police forces in Britain. It shows how the ­analysis of text from a popular journal gives insight into the portrayal of the daily lives of good policemen and how they were encouraged into, and in turn promoted, the moral values of the day. It shows the complex social mechanisms involved in punishment and that resistance creates positive as well as negative or repressive results. Also shown is police service ­resistance to government requests, showing their autonomy. Social class is not a­ nalysed in its own right but imbues most of the discourses in the police in this book. By the end of 4 years of total war, the police service had shown that it could adapt dramatically to meet the demands of the day. But their ­journal portrayed that they still hoped these were only temporary changes and that the service would return to its former position once real policemen were

10 Introduction demobilised, so that their own men of strong stature would return to the service, while the temporary replacements by large numbers of special ­constables, women and temporary police would no longer be needed. The temporary situation to which they had had to adapt during the war was said to lead to inefficiencies in the service. This hope of the service returning to its former position was only partially realised – and is beyond the scope of this book.

Note 1 The journal title will be shortened to its generic title The Police Review ­throughout the remainder of this book.

References 1 Foucault, M. (1977a) The Archaeology of Knowledge. London: Tavistock. 2 Rawlings, P. (2002) Policing: A Short History. Devon: Willan Publishing. 3 Clapson, M. & Emsley, C. (2011) ‘Street, Beat and Respectability: The C ­ ulture and Self-Image of the Late Victorian and Edwardian Urban Policeman’. In ­Williams, C. A. (ed.), Police and Policing in the Twentieth Century. Farnham: Ashgate Publishing, Chapter 14, pp. 293–317. 4 Braybon, G. (1989) Women Workers in the First World War; The British Experience. London: Croom Helm, p. 154. 5 Foucault, M. (1981) ‘The Order of Discourse’. In Young, R. (ed.), ­Untying the Text: A Post-Structural Anthology. Boston: Routledge and Kegan Paul, pp. 48–78. 6 Foucault, M. (1981) ibid. 7 Foucault, M. (1977a) ibid. 8 Foucault, M. (1977b) Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison. ­London: Allen Lane and Penguin Press. 9 Smart, B. (1983) ‘On Discipline and Social Regulation: A Review of ­Foucault’s Genealogical Analysis’. In Garland, D. & Young, P. The Power to ­Punish: ­Contemporary Penality and Social Analysis, London: Heinemann pp. 62–83. 10 Driver, F. (1985) ‘Power, Space, and the Body: A Critical Assessment of ­Foucault’s Discipline and Punish’. Environment and Planning D: Society and Space 3, 425–446.

2 The police before the Great War

This chapter sets the scene to the work of the police in the First World War by giving a brief history of the organisation of police services in E ­ ngland, Wales and Scotland from the events leading to the establishment of the ­modern police and the changes that occurred up to the end of the First World War. In the early nineteenth century, disorder was rife due to both political and industrial discontent, with riots and serious disturbances in many parts of Britain. Poverty and degradation was rife contributing to riots, strikes and Luddite activity. The system of watchmen was said to be unable to cope with the levels of disorder and crime, which alarmed the public, with a sense that crime was spiralling out of control, bringing the criminal justice system and the government’s credibility into question. The main stumbling block to reform of the watch and patrol system along with crime detection and public order policing was the cost. Detective work was mainly a matter for the victim, if they could afford it. Before legislation on the police was passed, numerous Parliamentary Committees (in 1770; 1812; 1818; 1822; 1826; and 1828) investigated ­police ­arrangements, particularly in London. The 1828 Committee was ­responsible to the Home Secretary Robert Peel and produced a report with determination and authority, using his previous experience of setting up a police force in Ireland. It pointed out that however efficient the current ­system of individual parochial police forces might be, they were incapable of ­coming together for the benefit of the whole metropolis, especially to ensure ­public order. The City of London was excluded from the report as its own force was seen as an ancient right; therefore, it was likely to object to new ­proposals [1]. Other Select Committees contributed to a more likely change in ­public opinion on the police: on Vagrancy (1821), which had been an ­issue for the police for centuries along with criminalisation of the poor [2]. It ­developed a more ­humane approach to prisoners alongside penal ­reform. The 1828 Alehouse Act also brought licensing laws into a single Statute. The 1828 ­Parliamentary Committee led to the Metropolitan Police Bill ­being ­presented to parliament in 1829 [3], arguing that the previous system of police organisation had failed and should be replaced by a single system

12  The police before the Great War of policing for London, answerable to the Home Secretary and excluding the City. It argued that increasing crime in the Metropolis was not due to poverty but to habitual criminals and that an improved system of policing would not cost that much more than the existing watch rates, which would be offset by improved security for householders: Whereas Offences against Property have of late increased in and near the Metropolis: and the local Establishments of Nightly Watch and Nightly ­ etection of Police have been found inadequate to the Prevention and D Crime, by reason of the frequent Unfitness of the Individuals employed, the Insufficiency of the Number, the limited Sphere of their Authority, and their Want of Connection and Co-operation with each other. [4] It established the Metropolitan Police under a single authority, mainly to combat and prevent crime by protecting the person and property and ­preserving public order, rather than to detect and punish crimes once they had already occurred. The Metropolitan Police replaced the small parish forces in London, with Commissioners at its head given the authority to manage and deploy the force subject to the approval of the Secretary of State. These powers extended to the neighbouring counties of Middlesex, Surrey, Hertfordshire and Kent. They were split into divisions matched to the counties; 17 divisions were created each with its own police station and Superintendent. A supplementary Act relieved the Bow Street ­Magistrate of directing the Horse and Foot Patrols, which were transferred to the new police office at Westminster, known as Scotland Yard, charged with ­supervising police machinery in the Metropolis. The General Instructions to individual constables followed in September 1829 and ran into several thousand words; they gave instructions on many aspects of a policeman’s life, including the pace he walked on the beat to who he should choose as a wife and where he should live, regulating his life. The first task of the new police for the Metropolis was to organise and train many new recruits while removing the original constables. The new ­policeman was to have a good physique, intelligence above average and a character beyond reproach as well as a quiet and calm manner which would not become ruffled under pressure. He had to perform the functions of the original watchman, street-keeper and thief-taker as well as being able to present a good case in court. Initially, recruiting sufficient men with the right skills and approach was difficult, particularly with the level of ­remuneration, and many recruits were subsequently dismissed or resigned (between 1830 and 1839, 5,000 were dismissed). The 17 new police divisions were organised into eight sections with eight beats per section; superintendents, inspectors and sergeants were created, and each was assigned to duties, which was accomplished by June 1830. Pay was streamlined according to grade and uniform provided so that each

The police before the Great War  13 constable and sergeant wore an embroidered number for easy identification. Initially, there were only two shifts: day and night; when this was unsuccessful, three shifts were created – two day and one night. Daily reports were submitted to the Commissioners to help prevent threats of breach of the peace. When a serious crime was committed, details were circulated to all members of the force and periodically notified in The Police Gazette, published by the Home Office with the aim of Containing the Substance of all Informations received in Cases of ­ elonies, and Misdemeanors of an aggravated nature, and against F ­Receivers of Stolen Goods, reputed Thieves and Offenders escaped from Custody, with the time, the place, and every particular ­circumstance marking the Offence. The Names of Persons charged, who are known but not in Custody, and of those who are not known, their ­Appearance, Dress, and every other mark of identity that can be described. The Names of Accomplices and Accessories, with every other particular that may lead to their Apprehension. The Names of all Persons brought before the Magistrates, charged with any of the Offences mentioned, and whether committed for Trial, Re-examination, or how otherwise disposed of. Also a Description of Property that has been Stolen, and particularly of Stolen Horses, with as much particularity as can be given, with every circumstance that may be useful for the purpose of Tracing and Recovering it. [5] This notification of criminals with requests for information was held in each police station. However, unlike the previous system of watch, the Act and appointment of new police separated them from the communities they policed, leaving local people no influence or accountability over policing strategies, except through the Home Office. This controversial arrangement left parish leaders with no authority or control over the police in their area, and the working classes saw them as an alien force sent by government to interfere with their lifestyles by closing down fairs and markets, preventing cockfights and imposing controls on drinking. During 1830, demands for the police rates from householders were issued, also resulting in anger from the lower-middle classes and working-class ratepayers due to the cost. In the face of continued criticisms, in 1833 the government provided a quarter of the funding in an attempt to limit opposition. But despite the protests and criticisms, there was much enthusiasm for the new police, while some claimed that the reforms did not go far enough, as it left untouched the previous independent bodies of watchmen, police constables and the City of London police. Fierce popular protest was encountered initially with concern centring on the possible loss of personal liberty. However, the necessity to end the previous regime of lawlessness eventually prevailed, as each complaint against a

14  The police before the Great War new officer was carefully investigated by the Commissioner and any found to be of poor quality were dismissed. But hostility continued; in May 1833, it reached its peak when a public meeting was organised by the National ­Political Union in Clerkenwell. The Home Secretary instructed Police Commissioners to arrest ringleaders and told the Union that the meeting could not take place, which was ignored. As speeches began, the police advanced and a reserve moved forward, resulting in clashes with the crowd. The ­struggle was short-lived and the crowd dispersed, but many arrests resulted, and many claims were made against the police. A Committee of the House of Commons investigated police conduct and found the Commissioners carried out the instructions and gave the police the warmest commendation for their performance [6]. This was a watershed, as subsequently the public were said to become friendlier towards the police and some districts outside the Metropolitan area asked to borrow members of the force to learn from their work. By 1840, 200 towns had been supplied with Metropolitan Officers. By 1839, the success of the Metropolitan Police led to their absorption of other roles: suppression of gaming houses, disorderly houses and ­illegal games such as cock fighting, regulating fairs and street musicians. By the mid-nineteenth century the police also exercised power locally over poor ­relief, licensing laws, regulation of transport and the streets and they i­ mposed sexual morality [7]. According to Emsley [8], as the century wore on, the police increasingly took on other tasks such as looking for missing persons and licensing street sellers and cabs, thus becoming more r­ esponsible for the smooth running of some aspects of society rather than simply the prevention of crime and the maintenance of public order. From the middle of the nineteenth century, the police also took on the inspecting of lodging houses, inherent in the role of local government. However, while additional tasks increased their power over the community, both the government and local authorities tended to see the constable as a handy all-purpose official who could be asked to undertake a large variety of roles; this created resentment in the police and is seen in this book, particularly in relation to the surveillance of women receiving the war separation allowance (Chapter 3) and in the regulation of immorality (Chapter 9). Juvenile crime became a further aspect of policing. In response to the ­increase in juvenile crime (before the age of 15) between the late 1700s and the early 1800s, private philanthropy developed. The Ragged School movement began in 1837 and Industrial Feeding Schools in Aberdeen in ­ ngland. 1841, which developed throughout Scotland and subsequently in E But none of these schools could compel parents to send their children nor ­ ublic could they detain the pupils longer than they wished to stay. The first p ­institution to detain juvenile criminals was Parkhurst, opened in 1838. A ­Select ­Committee in 1847 led to the Juvenile Offenders Act of 1851, and methods for dealing with juvenile crime continued to be debated at conferences as well as in parliament during 1853 and 1854. The Reformatory School Act, passed in 1854, gave magistrates the option of committing

The police before the Great War  15 offenders under 16 years of age either to a reformatory in lieu of imprisonment, to penal servitude or to transportation. In that year, 29 children in England and Wales were sent to reformatories, and by 1881 this number had increased to 6,738. Subsequent Acts in 1855 and 1856 made it impossible for any child to be admitted to a reformatory unless they had served 14 days in a prison. The Certified Industrial School Acts of 1857 and 1861 provided magistrates with further powers to send some children to these schools to be detained until they reached 16 years of age. The Act dealt with Any child apparently under the age of fourteen years, found begging or receiving alms … any child …. Found wandering, and not having any home or settled place of abode, or any visible means of subsistence … or being an orphan, or whose only surviving parent is in prison … or who frequents the company of reputed thieves … or whose mother has twice been convicted of crime … or whose parents represent that they are unable to control him … or any child apparently under the age of twelve years who, having committed an offence punishable by imprisonment or some less punishment …. be sent to an Industrial School. [9] Being sent to a Reformatory carried a stigma unlike Industrial schools which did not; the latter were intended to give the child the type of parental control and training not available at home (Chapter 12 shows the police role within this system). A further development was the Home Secretary Sir James Graham’s ­authorisation for the establishment of a Detective Department (CID) in Scotland Yard in 1842, replacing the Bow Street Runners who were ­abolished in 1839, with the employment of two inspectors and six sergeants. Forces outside London also began to employ a small number of detectives ­ etropolitan from 1839, while development of the uniformed branch of the M ­Police in 1889 added a further 1,000 officers recruited following the 1886 West End riots, which caused the resignation of the Chief of Police Sir ­Edmund ­Henderson [10]. By the Edwardian period, the CID was e­ stablished and ­accepted within the police and coexisted alongside the uniformed branch. But by 1912, a schism between the CID and uniformed branches was ­evident, as promotion prospects were better in the CID with inspectors and sergeants receiving 20% more pay as well as a plain clothes allowance, and they were also seen by the uniformed branch as having a superior status. They had greater working flexibility and were free from patrolling at night and had access to travel and subsistence allowances. The two branches had different approaches to crime which further separated them: the uniformed branch dealt with prevention and were highly visible on the streets, the CID with detection which required a more covert role not in uniform [11]. Outside the Metropolitan area, the organisation of policing differed markedly in each borough and county and developed in a piecemeal

16  The police before the Great War manner, often due to local circumstances; the main stumbling block was often the cost, as well as the loss of local control. The previous system had lost its credibility in the rural parishes with a growing wish for an improved ­system. The rural gentry increasingly saw the need for police reform by shifting ­control away from the parish to the justices, with the police being detached from the community in which they worked as had occurred in London, rather than being part of it. The early 1820s saw discussions of the need for more professional policing in rural England. However, in the boroughs some of the police were semi-professional and said to be efficient. Here, the issue was the loss of control as well as the increased cost. Debates in both the boroughs and in the counties were about the form the change in the system of policing should take and how it should be funded. The need for change was partly due to the formation of the Metropolitan Police, which was said to lead to a widespread exodus of thieves from London to the larger cities; ­Liverpool, ­Manchester and Bristol were said to be amongst the most ­popular destinations. P ­ rovincial police reform was also needed following disorder in Lancashire in 1826, while Cheshire had appointed three policemen based in different towns due to the rising fear of crime, in the hope that they would link with the urban police in Stockport, Liverpool and Manchester. In Liverpool, constables were appointed by the corporation and a separate dock police force was directed by the Dock Committee; in Birmingham, the police were formed due to the fear of disorder [12]. The Municipal Corporations Act of 1835 [13] enabled the ­incorporation of boroughs, requiring them to establish a police force under a watch c­ ommittee, who were members of the borough council and responsible for e­ stablishing and managing a force free from national accountability and ­supervision. 178 boroughs had their constitutions standardised by the Act under ­incorporation, but many large unincorporated towns, such as ­Birmingham, Manchester and Sheffield, had to apply for i­ ncorporation, which they did not do automatically or speedily. The Act required ­quarterly reports to the Home Office on the number of constables employed, their equipment, pay ­ ffice; however, and the rules of the force. This gave an eye to the Home O the number of constables was not specified, leaving each watch committee to determine a sufficient number. But, as the Act was not mandatory, only half the boroughs had adopted it 2 years later. Where the Act was adopted, watch committees kept a keen eye on costs; in some ­boroughs, the number of constables was reduced dramatically with the a­ ssumption often made that special constables could be recruited to make up a s­ hortfall. Williams [14] argues that the reforms brought about by the Municipal Corporations Act gave genuine autonomy to local g­ overnment, making ­incorporated ­boroughs fiercely proud of the police powers ­exercised by their Watch Committees, seeing them as symbolic of the borough’s i­ ndependence. But this frequently provoked conflict between the watch c­ ommittee and the chief constable. It also maintained hostility by areas outside London to any ­suggestions of ­police forces being controlled centrally from London.

The police before the Great War  17 An annual statement of crime was to be submitted by ­magistrates to the ­Secretary of State of the Home Department, to be presented to ­parliament giving an eye to the Home Office outside London. But the influence of the Metropolitan Police was felt nationally as their r­ egulations, working methods, structure and the d ­ etachment from the community was adopted ­nationally, which the Home Office encouraged. The Home Office gradually developed a role of d ­ isseminating good practice and advice on working methods as a way of influencing the borough and county forces. By 1918, the establishment of district conferences between chief officers and the Home Office further facilitated discussions of policy issues and fed into the Chief Constables’ conferences (Chapter 4). Despite criticisms and the difficulties of the old style police working alongside the newly recruited constables until sufficient numbers could be recruited, by the 1860s there was general support for the new police in the press, although they were not slow to publish articles raising issues of poor conduct by officers. In the Counties, a Royal Commission set up in 1836 to “inquire into the best means of establishing an efficient constabulary force in the counties of England and Wales” [15] was the third commission in 3 years. They heard the fears about the cost and loss of local control. The resulting County ­Police Act of 1839 [16] was also not mandatory; if adopted, the police were to be e­ stablished by and under the direction of the magistery. The Home Secretary had a limited role, making the rules governing the force to ensure ­uniformity across England and Wales. There was provision for the appointment of a chief constable, unlike in the boroughs where there was no necessity for such an appointment, who had managerial autonomy to discipline his men at his discretion, as well as greater operational autonomy, while the Quarter Sessions determined the number of constables needed. ­Objections were raised that putting control of the police in the hands of magistrates disadvantaged the less wealthy and many farmers, who previously had a stronger voice. Essex [17], Suffolk and Cambridgeshire adopted the Act, with Hertfordshire narrowly agreeing to adopt it in 1841, the case being made that a large body of men was more able to quell disorder than the ­parish-based system could have provided. The counties that adopted the Act often did so due to the fear of the migration of criminals and growing crime rates as well as threats or actual disorder. The counties that adopted the Act showed a considerable decrease in the number of vagrants, from 24,882 in 1848 to 2,977 in 1849, along with efficiencies in weights and measures. However, in other counties, ratepayers demanded abolition of the force soon after it was established due to the cost and inefficiency, particularly in large rural areas. By May 1853, Select Committee Reports [18] showed that 22 counties had adopted the Act in England and Wales, 7 had partly adopted it and 22 continued as before with parochial constables. This piecemeal development of borough and county police forces ­resulted in many boroughs with small forces with varying numbers of ­police ­compared to their population size, often dwarfed by larger forces

18  The police before the Great War in the nearby main towns, such as Liverpool (over 800 police), ­Manchester (445 ­police) and ­Birmingham (327 police). Furthermore, 13 boroughs had ­ignored the ­Municipal Corporations Act. The 1853 Select Committee ­reports ­i ncluded evidence from many chief constables and recommended that police forces working on similar principles should be established across England, Wales and Scotland with the abolition of many of the smaller forces. These ­deliberations resulted in The County and Borough Police Act of 1856 and the 1857 Police (Scotland) Act, making it a requirement for all magistrates to appoint a new police force in their county and all boroughs of less than 5,000 inhabitants to consolidate with their county police force, although the merger of small borough forces with their county was later withdrawn. However, these smaller boroughs did not receive central financial support in the hope that they would merge with their larger neighbours. In Scotland in 1859, there were 89 separate police forces made up of 32 county forces and 57 city/burgh forces. With the appointment of Inspectors of Constabulary who pressed for the amalgamation of small burgh forces, the city/burgh forces were drastically reduced so that by 1909 only 32 remained [19]. Before the 1856 Act was passed, strong opposition by local government in 1854 and 1856 defeated the centralist proposals advocated by central ­government in a “furore of municipal agitation” [20], involving a mass ­delegation to the Home Secretary. With this level of anti-centralisation ­feeling and its threat to local identity, the clause allowing the Home Secretary to give orders directly to Chief Constables was removed to leave borough autonomy intact. Also included in the 1856 Act was a central contribution by the exchequer to the cost of up to a quarter of pay and clothing and an agreement to government inspection of police forces; on a ­satisfactory report, the funds would be released. Also allowed was a police pension fund supported from the rates, but the automatic right for every policeman to receive a police pension was not agreed until 1890. However, Critchley argued that the county magistrates lost much of their control over the police with the 1856 Act, as a strong chief constable could fulfil many of the duties “which in the borough were assigned by the watch committee” [21]. The Local Government Act of 1888 terminated magisterial control of county policing while leaving the role of the chief constable intact. This Act also abolished all small forces with populations of under 10,000 [22]. These essential differences between borough and county police forces remained in place at least until after the First World War. Under the County and Borough Police Act of 1856, provision was made for an Inspector of Constabulary, who was to report to the Secretary of State, although due to local autonomy mandatory inspection by the I­ nspectors of Constabulary was toothless. But their reports gave the Home Secretary eyes outside London, although they could be safely ignored by the boroughs as the reports only measured the size of the force and the ability to drill, consistent with the Home Office role of guardian of public order and state

The police before the Great War  19 stability. However, the Home Secretary did have some powers as he issued an annual certificate to each force on receipt of a successful report which triggered payment to the force of one quarter of the cost of clothing. The Act was said to make a significant difference in reducing crime across Britain as well as preventing the threatened centralisation on London. The development of the police in counties and boroughs was a slow process, often involving experiment, debate and compromise with different models [23]. The mid to late nineteenth century was the heyday for borough police ­autonomy. Williams [24] shows how the Watch Committees often met weekly to employ and sanction their police forces. In 1874, the exchequer raised the police grant to a half of the wage costs for a force which had the approved strength. Legally, the Chief Constable was subordinate to the Watch Committee, but some had a hands-off approach, such as Liverpool and Sheffield. But borough autonomy was challenged by the Home Office on several occasions; the most significant of these was the centralisation in World War One (as many of the chapters in this book show). The war brought unprecedented central involvement so that the cherished independence of the Watch Committees could be snuffed out at will. Furthermore, by the end of the nineteenth century, the requirement for the police to have increased specialisation could not be equally supported in the Watch Committees as the level of expertise of the councillors fell. By 1912, the average length of service of councillors in Birmingham and Leeds had dropped [25]. It seemed the more disengaged elite became less willing to spend their time on contentious issues in ­urban life, which included law and order. Local government became a further problem to the London establishment, when in 1913, local government took over the funding of Poor Relief, just at the time when unemployment rose sharply, and they were unable to foot the bill; parliament was forced to bail them out. The years 1829–1839 saw the main development of modern policing. Large amounts of money were spent on erecting buildings and their upkeep so that only a limited amount was left in the budget for non-pensionable salaries. At first, resignations amongst young constables was very high, which was reduced by the creation of a superannuation fund by Act of Parliament in 1839. But due to poor management, the fund was bankrupt by 1856. The Act of 1856 made good the deficiency from the rates. By 1862, all policemen serving 28 years qualified for a full pension (the effects of a police pension can be seen in Chapter 7). However, dissatisfaction with the obscurity of the state of pension funds as well as dissatisfaction with levels of pay generally led to withdrawal of labour in the Metropolitan Police in 1872. The ringleaders were prosecuted and others dismissed, but the compromise reached meant discontent continued to rumble. Not until the Police Act of 1890, which applied to all forces across Britain, was a satisfactory resolution to the pensions issue reached to give a full pension after 25 years’ service and a provision which felt fair to those who were incapacitated during their work. The Act also stated the terms under which widows and children of

20  The police before the Great War deceased officers would receive a pension and gratuities and the conditions under which this would be forfeited or suspended (Chapter 3). But the level of pay still caused discontent. The year 1890 saw trade unionism in other semi-skilled and poorly paid workers, for example, gas and dock workers, which the police attempted but failed to gain recognition for a police union (Chapter 11). The new police were appointed to protect life and property and to suppress disorder before it turned into mob violence. Friendly relationships were fostered with the public after the Sunday Trading riots of 1855, where the subsequent inquiry exonerated the police and reassured the public that the government would not tolerate excesses by the police. According to ­Melville Lee: The basis upon which our theory of police ultimately rests, is the assumption that every lawful act performed by a police officer in the execution of his duty, has the sanction and approval of the great majority of his fellow-citizens; and under our constitution it would be impossible for any constabulary force to continue in existence, if its actions persistently ran counter to the expressed wishes of the people. [26] But the police must earn this respect to be popular: “popularity is of the utmost value to the police … what is wanted is the respect and approval of all good citizens” [27]. This was seen as crucial to the police accepting controversial roles, as in the continued surveillance of wives in receipt of the war separation allowance. Negative images portrayed in the press could be hugely damaging to the police, as in court cases brought against prostitutes (see Chapter 9). According to Emsley [28], “by 1893 the Bobby was firmly established as a part of the model British Constitution.” However, with civil unrest the army was often called in, until a 1908 select committee urged the police to be ­organised so that each force could provide assistance to another rather than resorting to military aid. The Police Act of 1890 created a formal structure for mutual aid so that the watch committee was empowered to exchange police between different forces under the control of the chief constable. The Desborough Committee of 1919 also enabled a more formal and centralised system of mutual aid to be established. By 1919, English and Welsh police forces were organised in three ways: 1 The Metropolitan Police, with a strength of around 21,500, was responsible directly to the Home Secretary. They were not controlled by the London County Council as they were said to have responsibilities in the Empire such as the Houses of Parliament, the British Museum and foreign embassies. Funding the Metropolitan Police came half from the London ratepayers and half from the Treasury.

The police before the Great War  21 2 58 county police forces, with a strength of nearly 18,000, were responsible to the Standing Joint Committee – half the members were Justices of the Peace and half County Councillors. 3 128 city and borough police forces, with a strength of 19,000, were managed by a committee of the Town Council – the Watch Committee. The Home Secretary did not have “the same power to make rules for the Borough Police, nor is his approval required for any increase in strength, &c., as it is in the case of the County Police.” In Scotland, there were 31 county and 29 city and burgh forces with a strength of 5,953 policemen [29]. Despite these structures, Williams [30] says that the Chief Constables had the power. But according to Emsley [31], friction often occurred between Chief ­Constables and their Watch Committees or town or city councils, despite the consensus that local police forces should be kept under local control, although there was a tendency for creeping centralisation: The policing of serious industrial disorders in the twenty years before the First World War, and the war itself, significantly increased this trend (of creeping centralisation). [32] This tension between Watch Committees and Chief Constables and the t­ endency of the Home Secretary to communicate directly with Chief ­Constables can be seen in many of the subsequent chapters in this book. The First World War itself contributed to unrest in the police, which led to strikes in 1918/1919 (see Chapter 11). The release of police to fight was a particularly contentious issue once the first wave of volunteers had left (this is discussed particularly in Chapter 8). According to Emsley [33], the war also raised political surveillance by the police to a level unknown since the struggle against Napoleonic France. Police surveillance is discussed ­particularly in Chapters 3 and 5. With these different ways of organising police forces, Keith-Lucas [34] asked what degree of control could Watch Committees and Standing Joint Committees legally exercise over Chief Constables and what degree of control did the Home Secretary have over Chief Constables and over these Committees? He said the Chief Constable was essentially a constable whose “authority is original, not delegated, and is exercised at his own discretion by virtue of his office” (p. 43). As a constitutional officer of the Crown, he acted at his own discretion to perform his duty of keeping the peace, and so was not subject to the control of the Watch Committee or Standing Joint Committee or anyone else. Each police officer was an agent with a duty to keep the peace and enforce the law; he, and later she, could not be stopped in this duty by the Chief Constable, the Watch Committee, the Standing Joint Committee or anyone else. The Chief Constable had discretion on the allocation of the

22  The police before the Great War force on when he received reports, and whether or not he ­initiated a prosecution. Accordingly, this was based on the long-standing view of all police being constables, regardless of their grade. The Watch Committee and Standing Joint Committee were not liable for police n ­ egligence. The function of Watch Committees was to provide an efficient force which i­ ncluded dealing with corrupt practices, oppressive conduct, breach of confidence, lateness on duty, insubordination, disobedience to senior officers and lack of smartness. Insubordination was particularly said to be a challenge to authority by continued attempts to set up a police union (see Chapter 11). Under the Municipal Corporations Act of 1882, when the Committee is satisfied that a constable was negligent or in other ways unfit for duty, it can dismiss him. Until 1927, there was no right of appeal. In a similar way, if the Committee suspected the Chief Constable of gross bias or incompetence which designated him unfit for the post they could dismiss him. In matters of discipline, the decision of the Chief Constable must be confirmed by the Watch Committee. But committee members could not give general or specific directions on how police functions were to be performed nor interfere with prosecutions. They could discuss how a Chief Constable did his work and could criticise him if they thought fit, but this had no legal authority and the Chief Constable had no duty to obey any orders. Sometimes members of these committees expressed opinions or questioned the Chief Constable and generally their input was valued, but he could ­reiterate that the responsibility was his. Town Clerks to the Committees would often divert attempts to give Chief Constables an order that infringed his responsibility; in serious cases, there could be consultation with the Home Office or the Inspector of Constabulary. But there were less direct methods for Watch Committees to control Chief Constables, as they held the budget and could refuse the Chief Constable’s requests. As they appointed and promoted ­officers on the Chief Constable’s recommendations, they could also refuse his recommendations. Discipline in a Borough was the responsibility of the Watch Committee, whereas in a county this lay with the Chief Constable. The Home Secretary had responsibility to ensure the police were ­efficient. He approved the appointment of Chief Constables but could not be ­responsible to Parliament for police actions due to police autonomy. ­Outside London, his responsibility was to inspect police forces, and if they were found to be inefficient, he could withhold their grant. However, efficiency only covered drilling, training and clothing. The Home Secretary could ­discuss and advise but could not interfere with Chief Constables’ discretion (this is discussed particularly in Chapter 3, where the Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police declined an invitation to send letters to wives following the furore over police surveillance at the outset of the war). Conferences of Chief Constables, involving members of the Home Office and Inspectors of Constabulary, were the main ways of discussing matters of common interest and police issues (see Chapter 4). Also, circulars issued by the Home Office to Chief Constables were framed to avoid giving an order, but merely as information they might find useful aimed at establishing a common policy

The police before the Great War  23 on particular laws. However, as Chapter 3 shows, during the First World War instructions were given to Chief Constables which resembled orders. Although the Home Secretary accepted the principle of the independence of the Watch Committees and Chief Constables, he did feel it his responsibility to guide and advise them, in practice not accepting the narrow principle of only being responsible for drilling, training and clothing. Developing this further, Keith-Lucas shows every constable was bound under the Municipal Corporations Act of 1882 to obey all lawful commands from any Justice. In practice, however, this was to issue warrants and to give orders on minor matters in court. As police forces developed, the status of their leaders rose and with it their resistance to accept a subordinate role – they more frequently asserted their right to independence, as Emsley [35] says about the situation in 1909: while the doctrine of the police being accountable to the law alone for their actions had yet to be articulated, it is doubtful whether a standing joint committee responsible for policing in a county, let alone a meeting of tradesmen and councillors in a county town, could have dissuaded a determined chief constable from carrying out what he perceived to be his duty in the early twentieth century. (p. 74) While the powers of the Watch Committees and Standing Joint Committees dwindled to that of dismissing or suspending Chief Constables, the role of Justices practically died, but the role of the Home Secretary remained the same. Since the nineteenth century, watch committees have continued to diminish in their role of policymaking and authority to direct officials. Also, as the subordination of the police to the magistracy, a common feature of nineteenth-century legislation, weakened, the influence of chief constables rose. In the maintenance of public order by the police, the Home Office was influential [36]. While the central co-ordination by the Home Office has been only gradually extended, as a police force too close to government would quickly lose credibility and become associated with a police state, this forms the strength of the police and constabularies’ independence. Constables at all levels are held to act on their own authority as they see themselves as gaining this from the law [37]. The rise of the chief constable asserting his position is seen in this book, particularly in Chapter 3, in controversies over the war separation allowance, and Chapter 13 shows how the police increased their power during the war by reorganising their forces to deal with the immediate pressures on them. The social standing of the policeman in the late Victorian and Edwardian period (1880s–1910) gives a key to his relationship with the Committees to which he was responsible. Clapson and Emsley [38] show the working-class aura amongst the borough police forces, including the Chief Constables, which led to the perception of a municipal servant. As Klein [39] put it,

24  The police before the Great War Before the twentieth century, policing had been a working-class job classed with unskilled agricultural labour. Three-quarters of recruits left before they reached five years of service, and only fifteen percent made it to retirement age. Policemen tried to improve their work conditions but their being unskilled left them in a weak position with local government. (p. 2) But upward mobility within their class was encouraged and was reflected in length of service; it became defined by where policemen lived and the ­social values they held (see Chapter 14). The profile of the policeman changed ­g radually between 1880 and 1914, so that previous work in agricultural and manual jobs declined from under 60% to below 20% in the ­Metropolitan Police, in Leeds from 55% to over 10% and in Hull from nearly 70% to 35%. They were replaced by semi-skilled men who had previously worked as ­bakers, butchers, bricklayers and carpenters [40], although many senior officers held that agricultural labourers and farm bailiffs made ­particularly good policemen, often due to their physical stature (this is discussed in Chapter 10, where many police with ploughing experience were used to plough dense pasture to increase food production). The ­Education Acts of 1870 and 1902 also meant recruits had increasing levels of educational qualifications. By 1910, the Metropolitan Police were recruiting 20% with previous ­m ilitary service backgrounds and the Leeds police 25%. Length of service also i­ ncreased – between 1900 and 1919, only 40% of ­Manchester City Police ­recruits left before completing 5 years of service and 40% reached retirement age. This was compared with initial high turnover rates where between 1839 and 1874 from the 48,000 men recruited for the county forces over 24,000 resigned and a further 12,000 were dismissed, although there was more ­stability in the senior ranks. By 1910, the levels of required skills also increased to include wireless operators, automobile mechanics and photographers, all of which needed a better level of education. ­Combined with the ­promise of a pension, this encouraged those looking for a career and long-term employment, but the bitterness at not having their skills ­recognised by increases in pay is shown in Chapter 6 and in other chapters too. Klein also shows that Watch Committees in Birmingham, Liverpool and Manchester at least “held onto traditional definitions of policing in ­order to economise” (p. 3) – they failed to recognise that pay scales were falling behind inflation “let alone to consider upgrading scales to skilled levels” (p. 3). Policemen were at a double disadvantage as they lacked an effective way to influence their Watch Committees or Chief Constables. A Police Union was not realistic as it was said that declaring a strike was inconsistent with keeping the peace and could lead public opinion to question the good standing of the police system; it was also said to promote insubordination. Policemen around Britain opted to petition Watch Committees instead. Some met with success, but most did not. Policemen tended to voice their

The police before the Great War  25 concerns more openly where they had better relationships with their Chief Constables as in Manchester; this was very different from the Liverpool force, which was described as “seething” with poor morale. Birmingham’s Chief Constable was described as autocratic, stressing the importance of loyalty to the force; constables had to p ­ etition him for permission to discuss force issues amongst themselves, which created a gulf between him, his force and the Watch Committee, who were ill-informed about morale in the force. This situation of the gulf between the Chief Constable, senior officers and the force created the ideal conditions for The Police Review and Parade Gossip1 to become established in 1893 as a voice for the policeman to air his grievances, ask for advice and compare local conditions between forces. The characters of the Victorian and Edwardian police had two sides: they were respectable, polite and controlled, but they were also swaggering and streetwise and were not averse to physical tactics and would stand by their colleagues regardless of their faults or offences. They had the ­prejudices of respectable working-class men, while their job led them to defend the ­respectable social norms of the day against the habitual criminal, the ­vagrant, the juvenile offender (Chapter 12 particularly shows their willingness to give corporal punishment when other systems of punishment were advocated by different groups) and the prostitute (Chapter 9 particularly shows the police role during the First World War). The police value ­system therefore combined personal respectability with private machismo and sometimes violence on behalf of law and order. The world of crime work was seen as the role of men [41]. Training helped to crystallise their self-image of keeper of law and order and defender of respectable values; these were the values the policeman felt he personified. Their values were as much from within the ranks as from the top down. The work of the police before the First World War was based on class ­structure, the assumption being that crime was committed by the poor and so to prevent crime they needed to concentrate their efforts on the ­communities where the poor lived, establishing the authority of their ­u niform on the streets and imposing a set of moral values, while the ­relationship with the rich and powerful tended to be deferential – ­respectability was the key to not being targeted. Establishing police authority on the streets led to meting out a thump with their truncheon or other forms of power s­ trategies which did not require an arrest and was not noted in police r­ ecords; ­police ­authority was visible in the police uni­ hysique. Prevention was measured by the form and the man’s imposing p number of arrests and those who had been previously arrested became easy targets for further arrests later. However, those most targeted would fight back, making it not unusual for individual policemen to be assaulted, particularly by those who despised them. This is discussed in Chapter 7, where the expected age at which a policeman could retire was shortened as his physical health was often said to be compromised by the gruelling ­ uties on the beat, which included being assaulted. and dangerous physical d

26  The police before the Great War From the beginning of the twentieth century, the police spent considerable time trying to impose their moral authority to stamp out gambling in the working-class areas, which they failed to do and merely ­created conflict between them and the working classes, undermining the role of the police in these areas [42]. In conclusion, the organisation of police forces up to the First World War was piecemeal, consistent, in London, with the threats of rioting and protection of the population and property. Outside London, a system of policing in the boroughs developed slowly with strong local authority control, r­ esistant to centralisation on London, while the counties developed ­r ural policing consistent with their local areas. Gradually, the many smaller forces were assumed into larger forces. While the influence of the magistery gradually declined, this book shows the frequent tussle between the watch committees and their chief constables, and also the assertion of the Police Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police in controversial issues such as ­policing prostitution. Also shown is the way in which the Home Office directly ­instructed chief constables during the war and how the latter often adjusted ­ espite direct their forces to accommodate immediate demands. However, d instructions from the Home Office, the police maintained their autonomy, and indeed sometimes denied that requests or orders were appropriate for them to carry out. The next chapters form the analysis of discourses found in The Police Review during the First World War.

Note 1 See Chapter 1: Introduction for a fuller description of The Police Review and Parade Gossip.

References 1 Morris, R. M. (ed.) (2014) The Making of the Modern Police 1780–1914. London: Pickering & Chatto. 2 Rawlings, P. (2002) Policing: A Short History. Devon: Willan Publishing. 3 Metropolitan Police Improvement Act 1829, 10 Geo. IV c. 44. 4 Metropolitan Police Act 19 June 1829, 10 Geo. IV c. 44. 5 Aims of The Police Gazette published on its front page, Saturday 6 August 1831. The responsibility for its production was transferred to the Metropolitan Police in 1833. 6 Report from the Select Committee on the Police of the Metropolis. ­Parliamentary Papers, 1834. 7 Williams, C. A. (ed.) (2011) Police and Policing in the Twentieth Century. Farnham: Ashgate Publishing, pp. 3–23. 8 Emsley, C. (1996) The English Police: A Political and Social History. 2nd edition. New York: Addison Wesley Longman. 9 Melville Lee, W. L. (1901) A History of Police in England. London: Methuen, p. 353. 10 Disturbances (Metropolis). Report of the Committee Appointed by the Secretary of State for the Home Department to Inquire into the Administration and

The police before the Great War  27

11

12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29

30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38

39

Organisation of the Metropolitan Police Force. 1886. London: Printed by Eyre and Spottiswoode. Morris, R. M. (2011) ‘Crime Does Not Pay’: Thinking Again about Detectives in the First Century of the Metropolitan Police. In Williams, C. A. (ed.), Police and Policing in the Twentieth Century. Farnham: Ashgate Publishing, Chapter 9, pp. 163–186. Emsley, C. (1996) op. cit. Municipal Corporations Act 1835, 4 Will. IV c. 76. Williams, C. A. (2011) (ed.) op. cit. Taylor, D. (1997). The New Police in Nineteenth-Century England: Crime, ­Conflict, and Control. Manchester: Manchester University Press, pp. 27–35. County Police Act 1839, 2 & 3 Vict. c. 93. Essex Standard and General Advertiser for the Eastern Counties, Friday 29 ­November 1939. Essex Adjourned Session: Establishment of the Rural Police in Essex; and Rural Police. First and Second Reports from the Select Committee Appointed to Consider the Expediency of Adopting a More Uniform System of Police in England and Wales, and in Scotland, vol. 36 (1852–1853). Davidson, N., Jackson, L. A., & Smale, D. M. (2016) Police Amalgamation and Reform in Scotland: The Long Twentieth Century. The Scottish Historical ­Review XCV, 1, 240, 88–111. Steedman, C. (1984) Policing the Victorian Community: Formation of English Provincial Police Forces, 1856–80. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul. Critchley, T. (1978) A History of Police in England and Wales. London: C ­ onstable, p. 124. Local Government Act 1888, 51 & 52 Vict., c. 41. Emsley, C. (1996) op. cit. Williams, C. A. (2011) (ed.) op. cit. Williams, C. A. (2011) (ed.) op. cit. Melville Lee, W. L. (1901), pp. 328–329. Melville Lee, W. L. (1901), p. 331. Emsley, C. (1996) op. cit, p. 94. Report of the Committee on the Police Service of England, Wales and Scotland, 1919: the Desborough Report. p. 3. HMSO, (1919) Report of the Committee on the Police Service of England, Wales and Scotland. CM 8325-11. Whitehall: 1 March 1919. Williams, C. A. (ed.) op. cit, pp. xi–xxiv. Emsley, C. (1996) op. cit, p.94. Emsley, C. (1996) op. cit, p. 93. Emsley, C. (1996) op. cit. Keith-Lucas, B. (1960) The Independence of Chief Constables. Public Administration 38, 1–15. Emsley, C. (1993) Mother, What Did Policemen Do When There Weren’t Any Motors? The law, the Police and the Regulation of Motor Traffic in England 1900–1939. The Historical Journal 36, 2, 357–381. Fielding, N. G. (1991) The Police and Social Conflict: Rhetoric and Reality. ­London: The Athlone Press Ltd. Fielding, N. G. (1991) op. cit. Clapson, M. & Emsley, C. (2011) ‘Street, Beat and Respectability: The C ­ ulture and Self-Image of the Late Victorian and Edwardian Urban Policemen’. In ­Williams, C. A. (ed.), Police and Policing in the Twentieth Century. Farnham: Ashgate Publishing, Chapter 14, pp. 293–317. Klein, J. (2002) ‘Blue-Collar Job, Blue-Collar Career’: Policemen’s Perplexing Struggle for a Voice in Birmingham, Liverpool, and Manchester, 1900–1919. Crime, History and Societies 5, 2–24.

28  The police before the Great War 40 Shpayer-Makov, H. (1991) A Portrait of a Novice Constable in the London ­Metropolitan Police, c. 1900. Criminal Justice History 12, 133–160. 41 Young, M. (1986) An Anthropology of the Police: Semantic Constructs of Social Order. Ph.D., Durham University. Young, M. (1991) An Inside Job: Policing and Police Culture in Britain. Clarendon Press. 42 Davies, A. (1991) The Police and the People: Gambling in Salford, 1900–1939. The Historical Journal 34, 1, 87–115.

3 Controversies over the War Separation Allowance

In the opening months of the war, the police worked within the dominant discourses of increasing state control and patriarchy. To recruit men, particularly for the army, the state gave a War Separation Allowance to all women and dependents of men who volunteered; but the allowance was only given for those judged to be deserving enough to receive it. The state attempted to root out those undeserving dependents by asking the police to act as surrogate husbands for surveillance of women, saying that the women were unable to spend the money appropriately while their husbands were away. These discourses caused huge resistance from individuals, groups and organisations with which the police had to deal. Following the outbreak of war in August 1914, The Police Review [1] carried a series of articles giving the police response to the highly controversial memorandum by the Home Office to Chief Constables to provide evidence of misconduct by wives in ­receipt of the War Separation Allowance. The Home Office memorandum of 20 October 1914 “Cessation of Separation Allowances and Allotments to the Unworthy” gave Chief Constables instructions to place all women in receipt of the allowance under surveillance. If the police received a report from any source, but mainly expected to originate from Relief Committees, the ­soldiers themselves or their commanding officers, they were to ­investigate and provide evidence and their opinion to the local Army Paymaster on whether the woman was worthy to continue to receive the allowance [2]. This caused huge controversy across Britain. This chapter shows first the government’s administrative strategies over the population and how they were set on paying this new allowance to all wives of soldiers and sailors, along with the state-imposed constraints to payment, all of which went badly wrong during 1914, and second, the ­national uproar when the police were requested to supervise wives in receipt of the allowance. The War Separation Allowance was portrayed as eligible to be paid to all wives and dependents of men serving in the army or navy during the Great War. It was announced by Prime Minister Asquith in Question Time on 10 August 1914, 6 days after war was declared [3], although the exact words he used are buried in the realms of time, as Question Time in the House of

30  Controversies over the War Separation Allowance Commons was not published in Parliamentary Debates at this time. The announcement was welcomed on all sides of the House [4] as a measure to encourage recruitment into the new volunteer army: I have done my part, in conjunction with the right hon. Gentleman the Member for West Birmingham and others, in getting recruits. The men who have recruited accepted at its full face value the declaration, “Go fight the nation’s battles, and the nation will look after your families.” It is upon the full face value of that undertaking that men have left their well-paid occupations and have arrived in their hundreds of thousands to serve the King. [5] The allowance was not only to encourage married men to enlist by ­providing welfare to their dependents, but also to assure them that their home and ­dependents would be well looked after while they were away [6] and that they should not fear what they could find on their return home, including being saddled with debt which a wife had run up due to her inability to pay the household bills. For the Liberal government, with principles of non-compulsion, the allowance was central to the voluntary recruitment of sufficient men for the war effort. As the earlier quotation shows, it became a selling point for the many Members of Parliament who spoke at military recruitment rallies around the country [7]. By 1915, when the War Office issued regulations for the issue of the ­separation allowance, the general conditions were published: Separation allowance is issued at the discretion of the Army Council. Its object is to provide for the maintenance of the family of the soldier when he is unavoidably separated from them by the exigencies of the public service, or to assist in maintaining the dependents of the soldier, other than wives and children, in the same degree of comfort as they enjoyed prior to 1st October, 1914 (or to enlistment if later). [8] However, from the outset, the War Separation Allowance was seen to cause immense difficulties. As a rights-based allowance, it was intended for every wife and dependent, but it became discretionary so that there could be no accusations of abuse of government funds, seen by Fraser as recipients being eligible provided they conform to an administratively defined set of criteria [9]. The precedent set up in the Old Age Pensions Act of 1908, ­established by the Liberal Government under Herbert Asquith (1908–1916), showed that abuse of public funds was either by making a fraudulent claim or being ­convicted of a serious crime and suggested disqualification could be for up to 10 years. The Act set up the national system of pension payments through l­ocal Pensions Committees and Subcommittees, appointed

Controversies over the War Separation Allowance  31 by local Councils. A Pensions Officer investigated all pension claims and sent a report to the Committee, building up national registers of claimants. Interpretation by the Committee or Subcommittee led to agreement to pay a pension which was sent to the Treasury. Pension payments were made through the Post Office [10]. A precedent for deciding who should be disqualified was previously ­established in the Inebriates Act, 1898 [11]: those found to be drunk in a ­public place, whether inside or outside, or of being drunk and disorderly, could be arrested and taken before a court. If the offender was convicted ­under the Act she/he could be imprisoned. Also, the Act made provision that habitual drunkards (those who admitted to habitual drunkenness or were found by a jury to be habitually drunk or had been convicted of drunkenness on three or more occasions) could be sent to an Inebriate Reformatory for up to 3 years. Providing the court with evidence of an offence under the Act was a police responsibility. The 1898 Act superseded the 1879 and 1888 Acts, showing at least three decades in which public anxiety about drunkenness in the population was portrayed as degrading to the individual and to the nation as a whole; it was said to lead to the national anxiety about the degeneration of the nation. Being eligible for the War Separation Allowance broadened these two precedents, particularly as the allowance was given mainly to women. To be eligible, a wife or dependents were allocated the allowance on condition they were not found to be behaving immorally, particularly involving ­alcohol, had not been convicted of a crime or of gross neglect of their children; in these cases, the allowance could be stopped. From the outset of the war, a national crisis occurred due to lengthy delays in paying the allowance [12]. The speed with which large numbers of men were recruited into the army, with the promise that their wives and families would be looked after by the State, led many to leave home without making provision for their dependents. As a result, many working class households came close to starvation in the first few months of the war. The War Office admitted that administering the War Separation Allowance caused them great difficulties in the early days, bringing to public attention the delays in payment. Not only did the War Office find the work involved in paying the allowance arduous, but the volume of correspondence and the number of personal enquires made it necessary for them to draw staff urgently from the “Audit Offices, General Post Office, Exchequer and Audit Department and Accounts branches” [13]. This made it necessary to also urgently recruit women clerks from October 1914. By May 1915, their staff had grown to 195. The crisis from August 1914 to April 1915 was due to the rising number of allowance claims, starting from 5,000 regular soldiers with dependents to 740,000 soldiers recruited for the war [14]. The police had to release many of their men overnight who were Army Reservists and also those who volunteered in the early days of the war. The Police Review told its readers how to claim the allowance: the wife of a man

32  Controversies over the War Separation Allowance serving in the army needed to send a letter to the Regimental Paymaster giving her husband’s name, rank, number and unit together with her own name and address, enclosing her marriage certificate and the birth certificate of each child. The Admiralty also required an application form to be completed by the sailor’s wife, but the navy made all sailors allot at least 20 shillings per month from their pay under the Naval Discipline Act 1866, to their wife [15]. There was continual debate around whether soldiers should be compelled to give an allowance to their wife out of their pay [16], and indeed, this was made non-compulsory in September 1914 [17]; however, the Navy could force an unwilling husband to make an allowance to his wife [18]. The information wives supplied was matched by the War Office to the information given by the man at his recruitment to check for ­authenticity. This was portrayed as causing lengthy delays in payment and became ­national news, published in The Times. Its readers were told that in the first few months of the war, the War Office attempted to obtain the names of all the soldiers’ wives whose husbands had served in the army since before the war, who had not previously been entitled to an allowance, as well as being besieged by applications from new recruits. It said that even 3 months into the war, the estimated number of wives and children receiving the allowance was 500,000, and within another month this number was expected to double as other dependents were included [19]. Adding dependents other than wives and children from 1 October 1914 brought a further level of complexity. Other dependents were categorised as follows: Class A:  Dependents as defined in the Workmen’s Compensation Act, i.e. the soldier’s father, mother, grandfather, grandmother, step-father, step-mother, grand-son, grand-daughter, brother, sister, half-brother, half-sister. Class B:  A woman who had lived with the soldier as his wife, but without marriage, and the children of the soldier in her charge. [20] Further included under Class A from 1 February 1915 were a soldier’s ­uncle, ­ ecame if aunt, foster mother and “other persons,” so that dependence b “the soldier contributed more to the household than he took from it the ­family were ‘dependent’ to the extent of the difference, irrespective of other ­considerations” [21]. Claims were assessed by local Pensions Officers. Checking these latter claims required applicants to supply detailed information to convince officials that there was dependence at the time of the ­soldier’s ­mobilisation and the extent of the financial support; but it was o ­ ften ­i mpossible for officers to obtain sufficient proof that amounts had been paid and it was not thought “politic” to ask for statements on oath. Some ­local Pensions Committees found that many claims were severely lacking in ­accuracy; out of 5,000 cases statistically sampled, “in a very considerable number … the sum stated to have been contributed by the soldier or sailor

Controversies over the War Separation Allowance  33 prior to enlistment has been greatly inflated for the purpose of obtaining a dependents’ allowance at a higher rate than the applicant was entitled to” [22]. Checking claims uncovered some which were said to be fraudulent. With the amounts of money involved, some officials accused applicants of “a gigantic system of deliberate fraud,” bringing the issue of delayed payments further into prominence by questions in the House of Commons: The Financial Secretary, defending with great courage and propriety the great Department of which he is one of the distinguished r­ epresentatives in this House, told us “We are overwhelmed with letters. The returns are inaccurate; men say they are not married when they are married and have children. They give wrong addresses. Women fail to give the proper names and designation of the men. And all these difficulties have made the work of the War Office almost impossible.” [23] From April 1915, local Pensions Officers and Committees were asked to send fraudulent claims to the War Office, who found it equally difficult to obtain proof except in the most blatant cases, where claims exceeded the soldier’s previous earnings. Fraudulent claims and the difficulty of ensuring that claims were legitimate were made known in the local press, by ­appealing to their readers to be alert to such devious practices: … if a woman says that her son has been making 18s. a week, and g­ iving her 10s. it takes some little time and trouble to ascertain that his ­total earnings are possibly less than the sum he was alleged to have ­contributed to the family purse. One advantage of life in a large city, that neighbours pursue for the most part a policy of non-interference, tends to increase the burden of the investigator. In a country town such fraud would have a very short run for the Government’s money. But in large cities like our own there is ample scope for this type of imposter, whose main motive is not need but greed. Only one way exists in which frauds on the War Office can be discouraged – by exemplary sentences, and the fullest publicity that the press can give both to the offence and its punishment. [24] This brought fraudulent claims on the separation allowance out into the open. Indeed, the Glasgow Herald published two cases of fraudulent claims heard in the Edinburgh Sheriff Court on 10 August [25]. The War Separation Allowance branch report also shows other investigations to try to establish eligibility. From July to September 1916, the eligibility of claims for dead children was tested by sampling the London boroughs of Stoke Newington, Shoreditch, Lambeth and Kennington; they found no case of fraud. Throughout the war, claims by women dependent on more than one

34  Controversies over the War Separation Allowance soldier created huge amounts of checking and were also made known widely by publication in the press [26]. These delays in payment of several weeks were said to cause serious problems for the War Office with recruitment into the new army [27], as wives were portrayed as not having to go out to work nor to demean themselves by being obliged to approach a charitable organisation for funds. There were widespread calls for a better system of administration, including from Members of Parliament. Instead of trying to administer the allowances ­c entrally, use should be made of the local administrative structures already in existence around the country [28], such as local Pensions Committees [29]. Payment delays were seen to be caused not only by the huge and sudden increase in the number of allowances for recruits into the new army, but also combined with the prewar financial arrangements for army wives. Before the outbreak of war in August 1914, the War Office only gave allowances to a very small number of soldiers who were given permission to marry. These wives had the regiment as their home and were known as ‘on the strength’ of the army; they received an allowance from their husband’s pay while he was away [30]. These men were mainly the upper ranks, requiring most of the lower ranks to be forced to marry without permission and with no ­recognition by the army. The ‘off-the-strength’ wives had to rely on their husbands to pass on their wages, which could become irregular, or on their own work at whatever was the market for female labour or on Poor Relief, the voluntary organisations becoming involved in assessing their needs and providing charitable funding so that being a wife ‘off the strength’ could be a wretched existence and generally demeaned. Indeed, the Cadbury-owned Daily News in 1914 described it as follows: Can there be any unhappier class in the community than the soldiers’ wives? Owing to official confusion, delay and revoked decisions it has long been established that to be a soldier’s wife is a profound misfortune. [31] The number of ‘on the strength’ wives before the war was only about 1,500 (around 4% of the prewar army), which led to attacks on the Army for its marriage restrictions [32]. Suddenly, a week after the outbreak of war, ‘off the strength’ wives as well as the new army recruits became eligible for the War Separation Allowance. It was these ‘off the strength’ wives that the War Office tried to trace by asking their regimental commander for their details, of which, when provided, many were found to be inaccurate or incomplete [33]. Therefore, trying to check their details along with the sudden huge increase in the number of allowances to the wives of new army recruits completely overwhelmed the Army machinery. There were also claims that the War Office did not know how to communicate with civilians, which was bad for voluntary recruitment [34]. So great was the initial crisis in the War Office that they enlisted the help of the Soldiers’ and Sailors’ Families’ Association

Controversies over the War Separation Allowance  35 (SSFA), a charitable organisation, but their help resulted in further criticisms, so that by 12 November the War Office declared the work of the SSFA in this respect was now completed [35]. The criticisms of the SSFA are best seen in September and October 1914 when the War Office asked them to help with the funding due to the overwhelming demand. C ­ omplaints that ­assessors were asking wives what they were doing with their money – Did they drink? Did they go to the pictures? – was raised by both Glasgow ­Council [36] and Arthur Henderson, Leader of the Labour Party, as insulting to the wives and should be stopped [37]. The Asquith government was determined that allowances paid to wives and dependents would be a payment by the nation as of right and would no longer be tainted by charity; this portrayed volunteering for the army as a respectable thing to do [38]. There would be no return to the days when wives and other dependents had to rely on charity, as by 1914 being in ­receipt of charitable funds was seen in very negative terms: At all events, I am sick of the insufferable assumption of superiority on the part of the agents of these societies (charitable organisations) and I demand that something should be done by the Government of a generous sort to help… [39] Criticisms of temperance campaigners and middle or upper class women patronising working class women by moralising is clearly seen in Frances Greville, Countess of Warwick’s approach: A certain number of women of all classes have been drinking more than is good for them, and since war broke out the working women’s temptations and the opportunity to indulge them have grown side by side. The majority of working women are as sober as the majority of every class, but though there are thousands of temperate women, they are matched by thousands of intemperate ones, the number has grown apace, and I feel that they should be saved from themselves. [40] Working class women being “saved” by upper class women volunteers was a frequent criticism of voluntary organisations. Despite this and other very negative portrayals of voluntary organisations, the essential role of the SSFA is clearly seen from their Annual Report for 1914 [41]. They showed that not only did they have considerable funds and the support of many highly ­influential people, but they also had become a recognised agent for the National Relief Fund set up by the Prince of Wales at the outbreak of war to help alleviate national distress. By the end of December 1914, the Association claimed to have supported 320,748 wives, 763,916 children and 197,150 other relatives with an expenditure of £995,375 as a necessity, mainly

36  Controversies over the War Separation Allowance since the outbreak of war. They claimed that without them and their 50,000 volunteers around the country, thousands of people would have starved ­because government administration could not organise itself in time to pay allowances speedily. But they acknowledged being criticised for their ­inquisitorial methods. Other voluntary organisations also sprang up in such desperate circumstances in August 1914 to help starving working class women and their families, such as Sylvia Pankhurst’s East London Suffragettes who raised funds to buy milk, eggs and other food stuffs to give to mothers and their babies. They also set up cost price restaurants at which the neediest families could eat for free [42,43]. The surveillance of working class families by large numbers of government and charitable individuals and organisations escalated dramatically in the early months of the war. The War Separation Allowance was made available to soldiers’ wives from 10 August 1914, but delays in receiving it became generally well known, as The Police Review informed its readers, saying that sailors’ wives were ­eligible to receive the increased allowance from 1 October “even though ­delay ­ irect may occur in issuing the necessary authority” [44], the promise of d weekly payments was made in the House of Commons on 14 ­September 1914 [45]. Until November 1914, there was normally a delay of a month or more before the allowance was paid, with claims that the authorities did not reply to ­letters from wives or from Members of Parliament saying they were too overworked to do so [46]. Members of Parliament also claimed that thousands of women were not able to write to the regimental paymaster themselves to make their case, so that charitable organisations such as the SSFA were continually approached for financial and other kinds of help [47] as a last resort, which further undermined the government’s aims to be free of relying of charity. To help working class women to cope with the bureaucracy, Sylvia Pankhurst’s East London Suffragettes also established a bureau with legal help for women to deal with delays caused by the authorities losing their papers and giving the incorrect amount of allowances [48]. The level of the allowance was also highly controversial. In November 1914, The Police Review told its readers that it had finally managed to obtain the rates: the naval allowance was between 11 shillings and 14 shillings a week for a wife, according to her husband’s rank, 2 shillings a week for the first and second child and 1 shilling per week for each subsequent child, to include boys of less than 14 years of age and girls under 16. Army rates were from 12 shillings and 6 pence to 23 shillings a week for the soldier’s wife, 2 shillings and 6 pence for the first three children and 2 shillings for each subsequent child. Families living in the London postal area also received an additional allowance of 3 shillings and 6 pence per week [49]. However, as Members of Parliament said, despite the considerable rise since prewar, the rates were only equivalent to wages paid to agricultural labourers while some jobs were paying far higher wages such as mining. The Miners ­Federation of Great Britain was seen to hold the government to ransom, by promising they would find as many recruits as needed if the allowance was increased

Controversies over the War Separation Allowance  37 to at least £1, 2 shillings and 6 pence. Also, Members of Parliament argued that many of their constituents were artisans earning between £3 and £5 per week, so were highly unlikely to be impressed by the sum offered [50]. Grayzel (2013) says payments were generous, but there is little evidence for this. Prime Minister Asquith answered criticisms of the allowance being ­unfair to high wage earners in the House of Commons on 11 November, saying it was impossible to match levels of pay before a man was recruited into the army or navy to a graduated system of allowances [51]. Gregory (2008) shows many organisations made up the allowance [52]. The police were one such organisation – they added a further weekly amount, at their discretion, provided the full amount the wife received did not exceed her husband’s weekly police pay: As an example, to illustrate the application of the provision, take a childless married Policemen earning, say 28s. a week, who has joined the Colours (and is within the Acts referred to) as a private soldier. The inclusive separation allowance from the Army would provide 12s. 6d. per week for the wife; and to this the Police Authority may, if they think fit, add a further 15s. 6d., to make up the allowances to equal the full pay which the Policemen would have received at home. [53] Some miner’s organisations also made allowances of 10 shillings for a wife and 1 shilling for each child [54]. Further provision for wives and ­dependents was also made from public funds through local representative committees under local councils, which were given discretionary powers to provide ­additional payments where circumstances showed a need [55]. The portrayal of efficient administration and the level of the allowance were referred to the Select Committee on Pensions and Grants under David Lloyd George, set up by Prime Minister Asquith on 18 November 1914, with the remit to consider a scheme of Pensions and Grants for officers and men in the Naval and Military Services disabled by wounds or disease arising out of the present War, and for the widows, orphans, and dependents of ­officers and men who have lost their lives, and whether the e­ xisting scheme of separation allowances to wives, children and dependents should be amended; and if so, in what way. [56] This led to setting up the Statutory Committee of the Naval and Military War Pensions Etc., Act, 1915. Their proposals were accepted by Royal ­Warrant on 21 May 1915. The Statutory Committee began to establish 300 local war pensions committees around the country responsible for ­paying pensions, grants and allowances, completing the work in August

38  Controversies over the War Separation Allowance 1916. It  streamlined the administration of separation allowances under ­government control, ­after 2 years of struggle with the voluntary organisations to wrestle ­financial support for wives and dependents away from them. This secured the ­discourse of state control over allowances to wives. ­Responsibility for paying separation allowances was transferred from the Statutory Committee to the Ministry of Pensions in 1917, which also saw the Patriot Fund Corporation become a statutory body. According to Strachan (2001), this appearance of parliamentary accountability for the level of war expenditure was ­i mmensely important in continuing domestic confidence in the financing of the war and also for securing foreign credit [57]. The level of the separation allowance was raised four times during the war: in 1915, 1917 and twice in 1918. The November 1914 debate prompted an increase in the level of separation allowance from 1 March 1915. A series of posters were printed and used by Members of Parliament and others promoting voluntary recruitment at rallies around the country to hand to all men who came forward to attest their willingness to sign up. But providing an efficient system of payments and an increase in the level of payments could not deal with the national anxiety of the day – the ­portrayed level of drunkenness and immorality in the population. During the 1900s, working class women’s morals were seen to be in need of supervision and guardianship which the good patriarchal husband provided [58]. This developed in late 1914 and early 1915 when the police were involved in a national controversy by being asked to provide evidence to stop the payment of the War Separation Allowance, particularly to soldier’s wives, on grounds of drunkenness or immorality, making this a major political issue for the police. The Inebriates Act, 1898, gave the framework for the police to make arrests for being drunk and incapable and also to categorise offences as due to drunkenness [59]. Women were a particular target, as drunkenness was said to cause problems for the family such as the death of infants due to overlying in bed [60] and the neglect of children [61,62]. At the beginning of the war, Lord Kitchener, Secretary of State for War, reinforced this message by warning not to treat the troops to drink while they were at home in training camps, as drunkenness was taken very seriously and was said to reduce the men’s efficiency [63]. From the outbreak of war in a time of austerity in the working classes, large numbers of wives being given the weekly separation allowance with no male supervision on how it was spent was contrary to national patriarchy [64] and became a matter of national concern. At the outbreak of war, with the administration of the allowance putting severe pressure on the War Office, divisions arose between the Liberal Government and the Labour Party and with the feminists, the voluntary organisations and ordinary citizens. The first time this resistance was seen in The Police Review was in an article on 20th November 20th 1914. A column headed “POLICE SUPERVISION FOR SOLDIERS’ WIVES. ORDER CRITICISED IN PARLIAMENT” warned the police that

Controversies over the War Separation Allowance  39 the actions of the Home Office in issuing a memorandum to the various Chief Constables directing that the Police shall assist in with-holding separation allowances to wives or dependents in the event of serious misconduct on the part of recipients has given rise to much criticism in Parliament, in the press, and by representative bodies of citizens. [65] This memorandum by the Army Council with a covering letter from the Home Office, signed by Sir Edward Troup, the Permanent Secretary, a­ ttempted to prevent the allowance from being spent on alcohol and i­ mmoral purposes. It was sent by the Home Office to all Chief Constables in October 1914 [66]. The Police Review reported that it asked for police assistance in withholding the separation allowance from wives and dependents of soldiers in the event of serious misconduct by the wife, defined as “cases of i­ mmorality definitely established, conviction of criminal charges, or gross negligence of children” [67]. According to The Police Review, Arthur Henderson, Leader of the ­Labour Party, made this known in the House of Commons by reading from a report in the Daily News which quoted the memorandum: I am directed by the Secretary of State to say that the Army Council ­ esire to have the assistance of the Police in the measures which are ­being d taken to provide for the withholding of separation allowances payable to wives or dependents of soldiers in the event of serious m ­ isconduct on the part of the recipient [68] … And though it is hoped that there will not be many cases in which such extreme measures will be necessary, the Secretary of State is confident that Local Committees may rely upon your co-operation in their endeavour to ensure that relief shall not be continued to persons who prove themselves unworthy to receive it. [69] The Police Review made known Arthur Henderson’s highly critical speech, addressed to the Home Secretary, by continuing to inform its readers in a two-column article: I want to bring to his notice what I conceive to be a very important case. I have told the House about the way soldiers’ wives are being harassed by the agents of charitable organisations; but we have gone one worse. I wonder if the House is fully alive to the fact that the latest thing to be done is to move from the agent of the charitable organisation to the Police. The Home Office the other day, I think surprised everybody by issuing a notice. [70] Arthur Henderson claimed his views on temperance were well known as he had supported legislation on the matter since entering the House of

40  Controversies over the War Separation Allowance Commons, but he was totally against putting soldiers’ wives under police surveillance or allowing anybody to tell them how they should spend their money. As he said, it was not only some soldiers’ wives who sometimes did not spend their money wisely, so why were they singled out for police ­supervision? He appealed to the Prime Minister that “we have no right to put the Police between the wives and the spending by them of the hardearned wages of the soldier.” He represented the dislike of public anxiety that wives could spend the money on alcohol and amusement, rather than on ­respectable living, a view familiar to applicants to charitable organisations due to the questions they were asked by volunteers assessing their claims. The Police Review also published Harold Baker’s (Financial Secretary to the War Office) reply to Arthur Henderson in support of the memorandum to Chief Constables [71]. He said Mr Henderson was misrepresenting the intentions of the War Office memorandum. He assured The House there was no question of an inquisition into the lives of soldiers’ wives or of handing them over to the police. The memorandum was issued in the interests of the women themselves, as a kindly warning that in cases of gross ­m isconduct all allowances were liable to be withdrawn. Warning the women would give them a chance to prevent cases reaching a point where an allowance would have to be stopped. The memorandum was limited to where m ­ isconduct had already occurred; it did not give the police powers to inquire into other ­citizens’ lives. He said that because of this misunderstanding, the ­memorandum had been withdrawn and its phrasing amended [72]. It would be reissued later in the year [73]. The explanation did not satisfy Arthur Henderson, who asked whether anyone was aware that local representative committees had been asked by certain Chief Constables to provide the names and details of the wives of all soldiers and sailors. In the light of the Home Office Order, some had refused to do so [74]. Indeed, a further letter from the Home Office dated 28 November 1914 offered to provide the names and addresses of the wives: 4. In order to be able to carry out these duties the Police should keep themselves informed of the persons drawing the allowances. The War Office will, as soon as possible, furnish you with full particulars as to the wives and dependents of soldiers resident in your areas who are in ­receipt of Army allowances. If, in the meantime, you require ­information as to whether any woman is in receipt of an allowance, you may refer to the local Relief Committee or branch of the Soldiers’ and Sailors’ ­Families Association, or, in country districts, to the local Postmaster, who will permit inspection of his list of recipients. [75] News of the memorandum to Chief Constables spread widely, with the Daily News reporting that the Chief Constable in one large provincial city

Controversies over the War Separation Allowance  41 had already applied to the local relief committee for a full list of soldiers’ dependents in receipt of the allowance and said he had received a flat refusal to provide it, with severe criticism of the Army Council [76]. The Home Office memorandum was widely seen as requesting ­surveillance of the wives of soldiers and sailors while they were away. This led ­Wintour [77] to conclude that when combined with the Defence of the Realm Act, passed on 18 August 1914, and its subsequent additional Regulations, all communications were censored and the police were allowed to search ­premises, including the homes of soldiers’ and sailors’ wives, at any time. In its determination to control the civilian population, the country suspended civil rights and imposed martial law, providing the police with the ­authority to take actions which ignored traditional rights and responsibilities [78]. Indeed, the press made known the “sinister” power given to the police by publishing the Worker’s National Committee protests: The committee protests that an Order which makes it compulsory for the name of every soldier’s and sailor’s wife to be registered in a police office and gives the police the right of entry to the houses of these wives places a sinister power in their hands – a power which the Order leaves entirely without regulation. [79] Further criticisms in the House of Commons came from the Liberal Member of Parliament for Hanley, Robert Outhwaite, who said that ­although State payments were always dependent on the good conduct of the recipient, he knew of no precedent for making payments because the police may consider the wife to be conducting herself in a fit and proper manner [80]. He followed this on 18 November by saying that the allowance was “virtually a payment to the soldier, passed on by the State to his wife” [81], therefore the wife should receive it without any interference or surveillance from the police. Furthermore, the Army Council should be prevented from calling in the police for surveillance of wives. The Police Review published their view of the Home Office ­memorandum ­ ortrayed on 20 November 1914 in a leader column. The implication, quickly p by the journal, showed that the Police agreed they had no place to intervene in the home or person of respectable women: So far as these strictures may seem to include and reflect upon the vast majority of soldiers’ wives, who are doubtless as respectable and well conducted as women generally, of whatever class, we quite agree that they should not be so watched as for it to be possible for themselves or their neighbours to feel that they are the subjects of suspicion, or of any exceptional treatment at the hands of the Police. [82]

42  Controversies over the War Separation Allowance But the last two lines of the quotation imply that although there would be no overt surveillance, the police could be aware of where soldiers’ wives lived, leading to covert surveillance while their husbands were away. Indeed, lists of wives receiving the allowance were sent to many Chief Constables from their local representative committee at the Chief Constable’s request, so that they had this knowledge of their population to fulfil the functions ­under the Home Office memorandum [83]. But, the police recognised that it would only be in exceptional circumstances, when wives drank habitually, causing injury to themselves and their children, disgracing themselves in public by disorderly conduct and encouraged others to do the same that they should intervene as representatives of the State. They said the police generally would not resent this unpleasant duty and disagreed with Arthur Henderson on individuals’ liberty to spend their money as they liked when it extended to disgraceful behaviour that scandalised public decency with respect to the exceptional cases of those women who, left by their husbands either to themselves or with young families, and entrusted with their husband’s wages, are found drinking habitually, wasting upon drink the money entrusted to them from the coffers of the State, and squandering it on their own and their children’s injury, and m ­ oreover, disgracing themselves in the public eye, and openly leading others into excess and disorderly conduct, surely in such cases some duty devolves upon the State to protect such women against themselves, and to afford a much-needed guardianship over the families. [84] The journal accused Arthur Henderson of “indulging in cheap platitudes” by refusing to recognise these accusations [85]. It followed the line of Harold Baker’s argument by explaining to its readers that in such cases, the police were providing a merciful kindness by warning such women that if they broke the law they would be reported in the public interest. The press fuelled this fear of wives being unable to control their spending without the supervision of their husbands by carrying examples of individual cases where this had indeed happened [86]. The suffragette newspaper The Vote summed up the patriarchal view in January 1915 that “bereft of the steadying influence and guiding hand of the husband,” any woman was prone to immorality and was a potential threat in the spread of venereal disease [87]. The explanation by the Financial Secretary to the War Office Harold Baker given to the House on 12 November evidently did not satisfy other Members of Parliament, as a further question was addressed to him on 25 November by the Member for Hornsey, the Earl of Ronaldsay, which was reported in The Police Review on 27 November. He asked if it was the ­intention of the War Office to put the wives of all soldiers under police supervision. Also, whether the Under Secretary had received representations from different societies objecting to the proposals and what were the reasons for issuing

Controversies over the War Separation Allowance  43 such an order? The reply reiterated that there was no intention of putting all soldiers’ wives under police supervision, but only to give a timely warning of the results of misconduct in cases where such a warning was needed [88]. Criticisms of the memorandum did not remain within the House of ­Commons nor with the police – they spread wider into the community. The Police Review reported that the medical press had picked up the ­controversy calling the memorandum “an offensive impingement on the rights of ­citizens.” They said the police were the last people to entrust with ­surveillance of minor offences and it would be difficult to imagine a deadlier blow to army recruitment than to place wives under police surveillance [89]. The police disagreed saying they were the only body who could carry out “this needed supervision” as they were not only on the ground but were also confided in by Government and had the essential tact and fairness for the job. During November and December 1914, the press was heavily i­ nvolved in the controversy. A stinging attack on the Home Secretary ­Reginal ­McKenna headed “The Gentlewoman’s Opinion” said, An order has been issued by the Home Office to local police officers throughout the country, instructing them to keep an index card of all wives and dependents of soldiers in receipt of separation allowance and these poor women are to be publicly visited by a policeman in uniform and warned that, if they squander their allowance in a manner not in accordance with some sort of official decorum, the sum they receive from the nation will be stopped immediately. [90] The article called this a most objectionable form of censorship and a “more flagrant insult to the women of England has never been conceived.” The Daily News [91] concurred that the memorandum gave the police the right of general surveillance, not only confined to actual misconduct. In addition to providing reports on special cases where complaints were received, the ­police should endeavour to check misconduct before it reached the point where a complaint was made, to warn the offender that their allowance could be stopped. This led to numerous impassioned claims throughout Britain that wives did not misbehave and did not need, and would bitterly resent, police surveillance. Further portrayals of attempts at state control of female dependents were publicised in the press. The Nation found that in London agreement ­between the police and the drinks trade made it impossible for any woman to buy alcohol before 11.30 AM, in Cardiff a curfew was imposed by the military commander, so that “questionable women … in the pubs and on the streets” were forbidden between 7 PM and 8 AM. In Grantham ­General ­Hammersley imposed a curfew banning women from the public houses [92] and in Cupar, Scotland, a curfew was imposed on women leaving their homes after 10PM [93]. The newspaper concluded that this put a dangerous

44  Controversies over the War Separation Allowance power in the hands of the police [94]. On 2 December 1914, the Daily Mail1 also carried a column that the card index with the full details of thousands of allowance recipients, held by paymasters, had been prepared and was ready to be dispatched to the police immediately after they received an ­order from the War Office [95]. The War Office memorandum was also hotly disputed by organisations supporting women and by women’s organisations. Letters to the press in late 1914 portrayed no evidence that problems of female drunkenness existed [96]. The Weekly Dispatch showed Robert Parr, Director of the NSPCC, ­saying at their Annual General Meeting that they had investigated how many women had become addicted to drink since the beginning of the war and had found no evidence of a single case [97,98]. A finding that immorality among the army with local women was grossly exaggerated was reported by the SSFA in their Annual Report of 1914 as a result of an investigation by the Archbishop of York’s Committee [99]. Women’s labour organisations also made their protests well known through the press: the Central Committee of the Women’s Co-operative Guild, with involvement of branches throughout the country, said the ­memorandum was class based; if it was necessary for soldiers’ wives to be placed under police surveillance, it should also be necessary for officers’ wives and everyone else in the community. They asked for this “­ tyrannical” order to be withdrawn immediately [100]. The Women’s Trade Union League, which claimed a membership of 200,000, strongly objected through the pages of The Times to the stigma cast on the wives of soldiers as they were not dissolute and drunken as the memorandum had portrayed them [101]. The Hull Daily Mail said this was a women’s issue, not one for the police; providing a place where women could meet would encourage them to support each other and if supervision was needed they would provide it from within their own groups [102]. The Daily Citizen also published ­extracts from letters sent by individual women protesting at the insult to wives ­generally [103]. The Women’s Local Government Society, said to ­represent more than 20 women’s organisations, wrote to Lord Kitchener ­ emorandum should be withdrawn to restore confidence in the saying the m War Office. The letter was published in the Evening Chronicle in February 1915 [104]. In Preston, soldiers’ wives organised themselves into the Soldiers’ Wives’ Committee to protest at the insinuations of drinking made by the Mayor when he presided over the town’s Relief Committee.2 He was quoted in The Weekly Dispatch [105] to have said, “One did not like to admit it, still it was a fact that these women, left without the protection of their husbands and with more means than they sometimes had, were now indulging in evil practices.” The ­Soldiers’ Wives’ Committee collected large numbers of ­signatures from wives and others which they presented to the Mayor at the next meeting of the Relief Committee. The mass meeting in the Guild Hall presented the deputation to the Mayor; representatives said the protest was a spontaneous outcry of soldiers’ wives being singled out for attack.

Controversies over the War Separation Allowance  45 This was followed by a flood of letters to the Mayor in support of the wives. The Weekly Dispatch called the step a bad blunder by the War Office which was bitterly resented by the women which “will awake indignation in their men” [106]. The Ladies’ National Association (for the abolition of state regulation of vice and for the promotion of social purity) sent Arthur Henderson a resolution from their November 1914 monthly meeting, thanking him for his intervention so far and asking for further information [107]. National and local branches of Labour organisations also showed strong support for Arthur Henderson. The Workers’ National Committee wrote to Home Secretary Reginald McKenna and to Harold Baker, Financial ­Secretary to the War Office, on 20 November 1914, voicing very strong ­protest and asking them to receive a deputation of women members to ­include ­Arthur Henderson before the revised memorandum was issued. A reply from Harold Baker said that both he and Reginal McKenna would see Arthur Henderson on 24 November, resulting in a strongly worded ­letter from the other members of the proposed deputation that they “were not considered competent to consult on the subject.” When the revised ­memorandum was issued without consultation on 4 December [108], The Trades Union Congress Parliamentary Committee wrote a furious letter saying they were profoundly astonished and resentful at the reissued memorandum and reiterated their protest saying the revisions made it compulsory for the name of every wife in receipt of the allowance to be registered with the police and gave them the right to enter every house where a soldier’s wife lived. Their Council also protested at the refusal of the Home Office and the War Office to receive a deputation, “including representatives of organised working women” [109]. A letter to Arthur Henderson with a copy to the Workers’ National Committee from the Halifax Federated Trades and Labour Council gave its very strong opposition in the resolution which was passed at their monthly meeting: this Council calls upon the War Office and the Home Office, to withdraw without delay the insulting proposals to place the wives of soldiers under surveillance, and protests against the application to these women of any Police regulations which do not apply to the ordinary citizen, further that we call upon the Labour Party to abstain from supporting the government in the National Recruiting Campaign, until this order is withdrawn. (30th December, 1914) [110] The Portsmouth Trades and Labour Council sent a similarly worded letter on 5 January 1915. Dumfries Trades and Labour Council also wrote on 29 January 1915, receiving a reply that the request for the card index system of wives had been removed from the revised memorandum and the administration of the system had been left to Chief Constables under the jurisdiction of the Home Office [111].

46  Controversies over the War Separation Allowance The Liberal Reynolds’ Weekly Newspaper told its readers the police were to have the duty of spying on soldiers’ dependents. They published an ­extract from the revised memorandum: When a woman is arrested for being drunk and incapable, drunk and disorderly, or drunk in charge of children, she will be detained at the ­police station until sober. If she is the wife of a soldier or sailor, the ­station officer will not proceed with the charge, but will appeal to her better nature, warn her of the serious consequences, including the loss of separation allowance that must ensue if she persists in such ­irregularity of conduct, and urge upon her to prove herself worthy of the husband who is away fighting for his country. [112] It concluded that the police were not to be trusted with this delicate task which was outside their normal duties; their normal work did not make them fit for this role. The journalist interviewed C.W. Bowerman, Secretary of the Trades Union Parliamentary Committee, who was quoted as calling the memorandum “monstrous.” Also interviewed was a representative of the Police and Prison Officers’ Union, who said the police recognised that the scheme was “very objectionable.” The war had thrown a large number of additional duties onto them and they felt unfit for this role. They recognised that any women they apprehended as a result of the memorandum would resent police efforts. The National Workers’ Committee, claiming to represent 4,500,000 workers, said in December 1914 that the memorandum was a deliberate insult to the entire working class of the country, giving the police the authority to spy on and control the homes of soldiers’ wives and to supervise and correct their habits without any appeal [113]. The police response when they received the card index of wives in receipt of the allowance was given in November 1915 by Sir Edward Henry, Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police. He agreed that the police had no place in surveillance of wives and that receiving the card index was much to his displeasure: I cannot understand why anybody should assume that the wife of a s­ oldier is necessarily a person who requires the police to look after her. We have never taken that view. We do not want to drag the policeman into anybody’s life. As you know, at the beginning of the war, when they sent me the cards of all the women in receipt of separation allowances, I said that we did not wish to have them. We do not know these women; they are respectable women, and we do not as a rule know much about the affairs of respectable families, because it is not our business. [114] This clearly shows the reluctance by Britain’s most senior policeman to take on the patriarchal role of surrogate husband by adhering to government

Controversies over the War Separation Allowance  47 requests, particularly in the face of such strong public protest; his ­statement indicated police autonomy that they were not automatically an ­organ of state control of women. This undermines Wintour’s claims that the ­country ­suspended civil rights and imposed martial law, providing the police with the authority to take actions which ignored traditional rights and responsibilities, as the police themselves were unwilling to be sucked into s­ urveillance of all wives in receipt of government funds. When the revised memorandum was issued on 4 December 1914, it was not seen as an improvement on the previous withdrawn version. It was picked up by the Liberal Daily Chronicle, which published an article on 5 December, supporting the Army Council’s view that they were trying to warn women of the results of their actions rather than to put wives under surveillance. The article included an extract from the covering letter to the revised memorandum from the Home Office, but it gave no further comment: The Army Council and the Secretary of State are most anxious that the police should endeavour … to prevent such a course of conduct by women receiving allowances as would … lead to the loss of the ­allowances. The allowances granted to the wives and dependents of ­soldiers are now on a more liberal scale … and the result has been to put into the hands of many … larger sums than they have ever ­previously enjoyed. This has happened at a time when these women are deprived of the company and guidance of their husbands and are subject sometimes to extreme anxiety, and at other times to natural feelings of pride and exultation. In these circumstances, many who ordinarily are quiet and well conducted are exposed to special temptation, and may be led momentarily to careless spending of money and excessive drinking not in accordance with their ordinary habits. In such cases, it was believed that discrete and tactful action on the part of the police may be of real assistance in inducing women to refrain from drinking and to resume their normal life. A woman who has got drunk once or even oftener on her Army allowance should not at once be arrested and charged, but should be taken to her home, and afterwards seen and warned; and only when it is clear that no warning will be effective should a charge be proceeded with which will involve conviction and loss of income. [115,116] This spells out clearly the Home Office patriarchal view that women should be a target when left on their own and in receipt of government funds; they were seen to need supervision by the police, as a surrogate husband, if they stepped out of line in areas of national anxiety [117]. Women needed male supervision to know how to behave in public.

48  Controversies over the War Separation Allowance The revised memorandum did not quell resistance. The Daily Citizen said that women who had their separation allowance removed could f­ urther face the removal of their children to other homes or the transfer of their ­allowance to the management of a responsible person [118]. The Times called the revision “a grave error of judgement” by the Home Office, acting at the instigation of the War Office by persisting with the memorandum [119]. The Manchester Guardian attempted to explain how the War Office had ­arrived at this memorandum, by saying that ‘on the strength’ army wives and ­families were segregated into barracks and were subjected to stricter discipline than the general population; they are “members of a kind of huge family patriarchally and strictly governed,” where obeying orders was so natural that it “is in the air,” recognising War Office naivety in attempting to control civilians like army personnel [120]. The uncertainty and confusion shown by many organisations as to how to proceed following the revised memorandum was seen in letters asking for copies. The Workers’ Local Committee in Blackburn asked the National Committee for a copy of the memorandum and received a reply to say that it had appeared in The Citizen on 12 December 1914. The York branch of the Independent Labour Party received a reply to their request of 22 ­December for a copy saying the section referring to the card index had been withdrawn. A similar reply was sent to the United Patternmakes’ Association on 21 ­December 1914 at their request. Sheffield Councillor Alf Short also wrote to the Workers’ National Committee on 16 December asking for the memorandum and the covering letter [121]. The revised memorandum was received by Chief Constables on 4 ­December 1914; The Police Review published an article on 11 December with a direct quotation: when complaints as to the conduct of the recipient of an allowance are received by the War Office from the soldier or his commanding officer, or from the local branch of the Soldiers’ and Sailors’ Families ­Association or local committee performing similar functions, the Army Council will refer them to the Chief Constable for inquiry. Similar c­ omplaints may also be made directly to the Chief Constable. The Secretary of State will be glad if the Police will make inquiry, and … will report to the War Office as fully as they can on such complaints. [122] The journal saw the revised memorandum as different from its predecessor in phrasing and in spirit, but that the underlying principle of the request remained the same. The police were portrayed as protecting their autonomy while r­ especting government requests. Following receipt of the revised memorandum, two police forces, Metropolitan and Sheffield, published their administrative strategies in The Police Review. The Commissioner of the Metropolitan

Controversies over the War Separation Allowance  49 Police decided not to send the list of wives he had received from the army paymasters to his local police districts or stations. “In this way he hopes to remove the objection … that Police officials will have access to the names and particulars of those women who are in receipt of such allowances” [123]. Instead, he ordered his force to detain in the police station any woman who was arrested for being drunk until she became sober. If she was then found to be the wife of a soldier or sailor, the police would appeal to her better ­nature and warn her of the consequences of her behaviour, including the loss of the separation allowance, if she persisted. A record of the warning would be kept but charges would not be pressed. Subsequent drunkenness or immorality could result in a conviction and, consistent with convictions for immorality or another serious offence, would be reported to the War Office. This policy was also published in The Times on 9 December 1914 [124]. The Chief Constable of Sheffield similarly decided not to send the list of wives to district stations “to ensure as little friction as possible shall be caused in carrying out the terms of the new Home Office Order” [125]. Instead, he appointed a senior police officer with a small team who had confidential access to the names and would deal with matters arising. These reports in The Police Review of how some larger forces responded showed others how the good police force should behave in this matter, to guide other forces. But with no indication of how any of the other forces responded, it could well be that some continued to make the lists of wives available to their policemen on the beat enabling surveillance. The memorandum continued to cause friction between Chief Constables and their City or Town Councils. The Police Review showed Manchester Relief Committee’s strong criticism, interpreting it as police supervision of wives and dependents of soldiers and sailors and calling it “inquisitorial and unnecessary” [126]. The Committee led by Councillor Margaret Ashton said it was entirely unnecessary for the police to hold a register of wives and dependents of soldiers and sailors and was sure that the men would resent any police interference. She was supported by other male councillors who said the action was well meaning but misguided, as War Office grants were earned just as much as if a woman was earning money in a workshop. It was insulting to men serving in the war for the police to be called upon to look after their wives. However, the Chief Constable defended the memorandum giving the War Office interpretation that it had been “misapprehended” and was really very friendly. Whereas previously a woman could be taken before a magistrate for drunkenness, now she was to be given a chance to reform. It was only after all warnings failed that the police would press charges and the woman could be taken to Court and risk losing her allowance. ­However, this did not satisfy the Committee and a resolution c­ ondemning the ­memorandum was carried by nineteen votes to four. This exchange was also published in numerous national newspapers [127], ­showing police ­disagreement with their Watch Committee and the Committee’s relative ­inability to enforce their views.

50  Controversies over the War Separation Allowance Glasgow was also publicly involved in the controversy, as published in The Police Review. At a meeting of Glasgow Corporation, the Senior ­Magistrate was asked if instructions had been sent to the Chief Constable to keep an index of the wives and dependents of soldiers and sailors who had left the city. The reply indicated that no such instruction had been sent and the questioner was rebuked, “there was something about the question he did not like.” It hoped there would be no need for the police to take any special interest in the wives and dependents of soldiers. This was said to receive warm approval from other members at the meeting [128]. The fierce debate on police surveillance of military wives received ­coverage in The Police Review for 4 weeks from 20 November to 18 ­December, and was debated in the House of Commons from 12 ­November until the  ­adjournment of the House on 26 November 1914. The debate showed the complete lack of readiness by the government machinery to ­administer the national a­ llowance, which in the first few months led to near starvation of some working class households where their main breadwinner had left to serve in the war, being promised that his wife and dependents would be looked after by the State. The debate also showed a readiness by the War Office to ­control the civilian population by using the police, in the same way that military wives were controlled. The increased tensions in the ­population due to the recent outbreak of war no doubt fuelled fears in the population and led to a huge national outcry, particularly by women and by labour organisations that wives did not need surveillance and indeed were insulted by being seen to need it. Furthermore, when women protested vigorously, by asking to be involved in a deputation to government, they were very readily swept aside. The principal that the State took over the role of the patriarchal ­husband while he was away by involving the police was highly controversial. ­Despite the controversy, the Home Office’s revised memorandum was not revoked. Indeed, these principals became enshrined in the Naval and Military War Pensions &c Bill enacted in October 1915 [129] after much debate in the House of Commons and with the Lords. From that date, the Statutory Board ­decided allowances from public funds and also whether funds should be forfeited in particular cases on the advice of local committees. According to Pedersen [130], this was the first time in Britain that the government made a decisive commitment to a gendered system of welfare: a wife’s allowance was the right of her husband. So what evidence is there of how the police were portrayed as r­ esponding to this national emergency of wives being left on their own without the ­patriarchal husband to control them? What was their response to this ­request to take on the husband’s role by attempting to control the nation’s wives and dependents to prevent the separation allowance being spent on drink and immoral purposes? Chapter 2 shows how police autonomy is highly prized. Sir Edward Henry, in evidence to the Women’s Advisory Committee of the

Controversies over the War Separation Allowance  51 Central Control Board in November 1915 portrays his unwillingness to treat drinking by men and women differently: I cannot discriminate between the sexes without bringing a hornet’s nest about my ears. [131] He portrays the police as being bruised by the public altercations of the separation allowance. Both he and the Chief Constable of Sheffield showed their leadership in autonomy by publicising the creation of special arrangements to deal with the contact details of all recipients of the allowance, in an attempt to calm public anxiety. Further indications in February 1917 of negotiations with government are seen when the police were asked to send out letters to war widows warning that their pensions could be forfeited: We are anxious to make this warning as effective as possible and it has been suggested that this end might best be attained if the letter ­conveying the warning to the woman were sent open to the Police and delivered to her by them. [132] The reply from Sir Edward Henry reminded the Statutory Committee for War Pensions of the “public outcry earlier in the war when the War Office sought to impose police supervision.” Although he assured the committee of his wish to help, he declined to be involved as he was wary of the public r­ esentment this would cause [133]. This confirms police reliance on public support for their role enabling them to be unwilling to harm their public image; it also undermines allegations of a police state during the First World War. However, during 1914, the control of drunkenness was an ­historical ­problem ­ ational disfor the police and the nation in which sobriety was part of the n course of respectability. Therefore, drunkenness amongst women during the war years continued to be a high priority with continued police involvement. Apart from the memorandum from the Home Office to Chief Constables, the nation responded by measures under the extended Defence of the Realm Act (No. 3) [134] and the Intoxicating Liquor (­ Temporary Restrictions) Act [135] to control the liquor trade. The latter arose from pressure by the ­m ilitary ­authorities, which allowed the police to recommend to Justices a ­restriction on the sale, consumption and supply of alcohol in an area if there were ­problems with the maintenance of order or suppression of ­drunkenness [136]; (see Chapter 4). Further pressure on the population to prevent the ­dangers of drink reducing the effectiveness of the army came from high ­profile ­figures such as Lord Kitchener, who appealed to the ­population not to treat ­soldiers to drink and to educate public opinion in areas where soldiers were stationed, such as around Preston and Carlisle [137].

52  Controversies over the War Separation Allowance Voluntary organisations were also seen to intervene to suppress drunkenness in soldier’s wives. Total prohibition was strongly recommended, for example, by the Dundee Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children, who claimed in a letter to the Secretary of State for Scotland that During the first three months of the War, 47 cases of women drinking to excess and neglecting their children were reported to the Directors, and of these 22 were the wives of soldiers – in all a considerable increase over the total number (37) of cases in the same period last year. [138] The robust response portrayed that prohibition was not necessary and that existing measures of conviction and forfeiture of the separation ­allowance were sufficient. The Society was urged to warn soldiers’ wives of the ­consequences of intemperance. This endorsed the government’s ­determination to have control of state funding for dependents as a means of controlling drunkenness, while attempting to push the influence of the charitable organisations to the periphery. Police surveillance mechanisms which linked convictions for ­drunkenness by gender were already in place, as they were required traditionally to compile Drunk and Disorderly returns at local level. By including a further ­category of women who were in receipt of the separation allowance or by ­asking the women when they were arrested or by comparing their details with Army Paymaster’s lists, this made comparisons across time and ­between genders possible. Combining these local returns at national level, including the war office statistics on separation allowances, enabled national surveillance of offenders and prompted questions in the House of Commons. A year after the initial memorandum, a report in The ­Police ­Review showed its readers that a question by Mr Partington directed to the Secretary of State for the Home Department asked for the number of women convicted for ­drunkenness in the Metropolitan District for the years ending October 31st 1913–1915 and the numbers convicted in 1915 and in receipt of the separation allowance. The answer given by Sir John Simon showed: 1913 = 16,609 convictions; 1914 = 18,538 convictions; and 1915 = 16,526 convictions. But he said he was unable to give a “true” figure of convictions for women in receipt of the separation allowance for 1914–1915, but so far 62 had been found to be in receipt of the allowance, but the true figure may be larger [139]. Conviction rates portray a striking similarity for the year ending ­October 31st 1913 compared with the same period in 1915 and show that ­during the period 1 November 1914 to 31 October 1915, the first year of the war, the level of convictions for drunkenness amongst women in London was no higher

Controversies over the War Separation Allowance  53 than before the war, although in 1915 enquiries into e­ ntitlement were more likely which also uncovered many fraudulent claims and reached the press [140,141]. More reliable statistics on national withdrawal of the s­ eparation allowance only became available from September 1917. They showed 4,292 allowances withdrawn from September 1917 to March 1918 and 6,302 ­w ithdrawn between April 1918 and March 1919 [142]. Police involvement to convict women of drunkenness during the war years can also be seen in the Chief Constables’ Annual Reports in Scotland published in The Police Review. These portray the trends in drinking offences combined with Licensing Control. The Annual Reports show a clear link between drunkenness amongst women and receipt of the separation allowance. In Aberdeen, the results are shown in Table 3.1. This shows the police arresting many more women in Aberdeen for ­being drunk and incapable since 27 September 1915 than before. Although there was a decrease for both sexes in arrests for offences due to drunkenness, women show less of a decrease than men. The Chief Constable’s ­explanation of these figures was that “when money is so plentiful as it is at present in many households, nothing short of total prohibition will ­prevent drunkenness” [143]. The implication by Aberdeen Police that the separation allowance caused women to drink more was not hedged around in ­Edinburgh. A column on the Chief Constable’s Annual Report for 1915 headed ­SEPARATION ALLOWANCE A “CURSE” showed “some s­ triking figures with respect to drinking amongst women since the outbreak of war.” It showed charges for drunkenness in men during the 4 months of the ­Licensing Control Restriction Order decreased by 27; whereas charges against women rose by 35. Despite a decrease since the previous year in Table 1  D  runkenness in Aberdeen before and after Liquor Control in 1915 Men/Women

Men Women Men Women Men Women Men Women

Drunk and Incapable

Offences due to Drunkenness

Before Liquor Control

Before Liquor Control

After Liquor Control

After Liquor Control

10% increase 10% increase No change since 1914 82% increase 37% decrease 7% decrease 42% decrease 38% (no indication of increase/ decrease)

54  Controversies over the War Separation Allowance arrests for being drunk and incapable, 144 arrests were made of which 109 were women. The Chief Constable said there was more drinking amongst women during the four months of the Licensing Control Order than previously. The report clearly shows that women in certain locations, such as public houses were observed more: It has been observed that women have been frequenting public houses more than they usually did, due doubtless to the restrictions on the sale of spirits for ‘off’ consumption. [144] The Chief Constable showed his regret that the restrictions had not worked to decrease drinking by women as while drinking at home was a bad ­influence on the young, women who frequented the public houses were much worse, as they were possibly leaving their homes and children neglected. He linked this to an increase of 27 in the number of convictions for cruelty to children by providing insufficient food and clothing and allowing them to be in a verminous condition. One woman was said to have neglected her child for so long that it died, which was “a striking example of the evils of strong drink.” He portrayed the situation as the Separation Allowance has been more a curse than a blessing, as many women, seemingly unaccustomed to so much money and freed from the restraint of their husbands, have given way to intemperance. He called for “something to be done to restrain them” and saw the solution as payment of the allowance through the SSFA and according to the needs of the families [145]. This solution portrayed a return to the previous system of charitable funding for wives with surveillance of their spending. It would involve increased and more intrusive surveillance of women in their homes, and so shows the strong influence of patriarchy where the traditional role of women was seen as at home caring for children. The Chief Constable of Dundee’s Annual Report for 1915 showed a ­similar picture. He said that since the outbreak of war drinking had ­increased ­considerably in the city. While arrests for drunkenness only ­increased by 57 between 1914 and 1915, these did not accurately reflect the extent of ­increased drinking. Just as in Edinburgh, he put the increase squarely onto the ­separation allowance as well as the increase in wages for war work. ­However, unlike Edinburgh, he said the Liquor Control Order had ­increased drinking in the homes. Trying to reduce drinking by short sentences led to numerous Court appearances over the year, while they had no effect on reducing drunkenness. Furthermore, while not incarcerated, habitual drunkards were “a source of pollution and degradation to their ­ undee fellows.” In desperation, during the year, 24 habitual drunkards in D were given the “full punishment provided for drunkenness by statute,” likely

Controversies over the War Separation Allowance  55 to be a sentence of up to 3 years [146], as the solution was to isolate those habitually convicted from the rest of society. In May 1916, the Chief Constable of Carlisle also informed magistrates that there had been a record number of convictions for drunkenness in the city [147], although the sex of those mainly involved was not given. However, Chief Constables in other large cities in England and Wales did not place so much emphasis in their Annual Reports on the separation allowance or on female drunkenness; for example, in Leeds, the Chief Constable focussed more on juvenile crime [148]. In conclusion, this chapter has shown how the dominant ideologies of increasing state control and patriarchy were maintained and challenged in a time of heightened tensions at and shortly after the outbreak of war. The government’s initial inability to administer the scheme of payments ­required national and local systems to be set up, which needed large ­numbers of staff. It also involved huge efforts by the use of statistics, ­interrogation and ­surveillance to establish the authenticity of claims and to make these known to ensure public support for the change from charitable support to g­ overnment funding of the population’s wives. The twists and turns of ­government strategies is very evident here with their attempts to overcome the middle and upper classes, who continued to assert their dominance by building up detailed knowledge of working class applicant’s lives through asking questions about their lifestyle, which the latter saw as patronising, and only if middle and upper class values were met did they agree to release charitable funds. However, with the rise of the organised working class, i­ ncluding Labour Members of Parliament, this strategy was portrayed as one reason for the demise of philanthropy in favour of State Welfare. As  the civilian police did not associate themselves with working class values, ­undertaking roles to control the behaviour of the women when no crime was involved was alien to them and created resistance by them to government requests. The rise of state welfare by the control of funding to the worthy is ­evident in granting a separation allowance to each wife, child and a wide range of other dependents of soldiers and sailors [149]. This funding was widely ­welcomed, whereas for the government it was a strategy initially to e­ ncourage large-scale recruitment into the army. The unintended c­ onsequence was the government departments which sprang up to develop and hold detailed knowledge of those in receipt of the allowance. These ­departments ­mushroomed throughout the country, employing large ­numbers of clerks and administrative workers to maintain the information that was built up. Only by knowing the dependents, could they begin to control their behaviour. Control was in the areas of public anxiety, such as drinking and immorality, which had to be rooted out. As Duncan [150] shows, female drinking during the war was an issue of much contention. Whereas women protested that intrusive state control was patronising, social reformers and temperance activists saw female drinking as evidence of social decline and the nation drinking

56  Controversies over the War Separation Allowance its way to defeat. This chapter shows how women left on their own were able to organise themselves to resist accusations when they felt their honour was under threat. They dissociated themselves from women who were immoral, including drunkenness. The implication that working class women were a particular target and that all women were thought incapable of controlling their own behaviour and could be pushed aside by government when wishing to make their case was deeply resented by them. But women had support for their case from many Labour Members of Parliament and labour organisations. But despite the national outburst of rage at the proposals to control women by surveillance, the government was unwilling to listen or change its strategies. The example of the War Separation Allowance shows clearly the military strategy of control in conflict with the strategy of rights and responsibilities of women’s and labour groups. The Liberal government clearly supported the War Office patriarchal discourses that all women whose husbands were away fighting were unable to manage state funds and needed to be under surveillance by the ­police, ­making the police the surrogate husband. Surveillance by the police would have built up knowledge of wives who were previously not known to them but in receipt of state allowances and was fiercely resisted. The police saw no role for themselves in the surveillance of women in their homes and women generally who had not committed a crime. A compromise had to be reached by the police in how to handle detailed information sent to them on each wife, to control the national uproar which occurred, which could have seen them losing public confidence and undermining their role. In the face of huge public protests, the police acted independently to carefully protect their public image. Chapter 2 shows this is a raison d’etre for the police to have public support for their role so as not to be seen as an organ of the state. The portrayal of the national anxiety of women spending their separation allowance on drink is difficult to support. There is little evidence to suppose that increased drinking by women did occur during the opening year of the First World War, despite the increased national tensions the war caused. ­ nder Indeed, the increased awareness by women that they were likely to be u surveillance by the police may have resulted in them being particularly careful not to arouse any kind of suspicion in this respect. Certainly, due to the national outcry about police surveillance, there would have been increased awareness by the women themselves of their friends and neighbours to ­ensure that their outrage at being accused of being drunk and mismanaging their money could not result in sanctions by the authorities. However, it was not so much whether or not arrests were made, but rather the use of the police by government and the additional powers they were given over the population that fuelled such a national outcry and made the working classes feel particularly powerless to respond. From the start of the war, the surveillance associated with the separation allowance made national headlines, receiving a very negative response by the public, particularly by working class women who often could not fight their

Controversies over the War Separation Allowance  57 own case against government bureaucracy. However, it is true that many working class women, who had been used to receiving money from their husbands only spasmodically due to the temporary nature of much work in these groups, suddenly found they had money in their pockets. Indeed, claims have been made that some women were better off later in the war years than they had ever been due to mass employment in the war industries [151]. But the dominant ideologies of patriarchy and increasing state control led to worries about how women left on their own were spending the money as well as the middle classes worrying about the erosion of their differentials. Although the police said publicly they did not like the role they were given, privately, from some Chief Constable’s Annual Reports, they endorsed ­patriarchy which saw the need for the control of women. This was linked with government requirements to submit returns on arrests for drunkenness. At a time when a culture of sobriety was linked with respectability, the police saw themselves as upholding these national values. However, their lack of effectiveness in producing a lasting change in habitual drunkenness by imprisonment was acknowledged, spreading methods of control wider into the community by involving other groups such as the doctors, ­reformatories and prisons, which will be discussed in Chapter 4. The heightened awareness by the police and the requests from government bodies for reports on certain women, particularly in the early war years, made the surveillance of all women more likely – how else would the police have known that drinking in the homes had increased? The Chief Constables’ Annual Reports for 1914–1915 from Scotland’s major cities and from Carlisle, published in The Police Review, do indeed show an increased focus on drunkenness in women. In contrast with the Annual Reports from other Chief Constables in England and Wales for the same period, for example, Leeds and the Metropolitan area, according to The Police Review they show more concern with increased juvenile crime.3 The blame for these insults to women often fell on the War Office, who were said not to be able to communicate with the civilian population and treated them similarly to Army personnel who were trained to obey orders. The issue was badly handled arousing public indignation [153]. Criticisms of Lord Kitchener being unwilling to consult with parliamentary colleagues, making unilateral decisions and blunders by his approach, were often discussed in government circles [154]. The example of the War Separation ­Allowance also shows the Liberal government’s attempts to move away from relying on charity, which became debased, to rely on State Welfare, which was said to be respectable.

Notes 1 The Daily Mail was first published in 1896, catering for the lower middle class conservative market. In the 1910s, it was the biggest selling daily newspaper.

58  Controversies over the War Separation Allowance Owned by Lord Northcliffe, it constantly criticised Lord Kitchener for his war tactics. 2 Preston, like Carlisle and Grantham, had a huge increase overnight in its ­population by some 20,000 due to the temporary camps housing new army ­recruits for a short training before being sent to war. These camps were a source of considerable local concern as they were said to attract young married women whose husbands had gone to war and girls due to the glamour associated with the troops (see Chapter 5). 3 As original copies of all Chief Constable’s Annual Reports for this period are now largely destroyed [152], reports in The Police Review are the main source.

References 1 The Police Review and Parade Gossip (also known as Jane’s Police Review) was the Organ of the British Constabulary. It was published weekly from 2 January 1893 until it ceased publication on 18 November 2011. For a fuller description, see Chapter 1: Introduction. 2 Wusson, H. (1998) The Nightmare of History: The Fictions of Virginia Woolf and D.H. Lawrence. Bethlehem PA: Lehigh University Press. 3 House of Commons Debates, 10 August 1914, vol 65 cols, 2999–2300. 4 House of Commons Debates, 18 November 1914, vol 68 cols, 455–525. 5 House of Commons Debates, 12 November 1914, vol 68 col. 485. 6 Grayzel, S. R. (2013) Women and the First World War. Abingdon and New York: Routledge. 7 House of Commons Debates, 18 November 1914, vol 68 cols, 502–521. 8 HMSO (1915) Regulations for the Issue of Separation Allowance and Allotments of Pay during the Present War. War Office 1 August 1915. TNA WO32/9316/189. 9 Fraser, N. (1989) Unruly Practices: Power, Discourse and Gender in Contemporary Social Theory. Cambridge: Polity. 10 Hodge, J. M. & Garside, T. H. (1918) War Pensions and Allowances. London: Hodder and Stoughton. 11 Inebriates Act, 1898 (61 & 62 Vict. Ch 60). 12 Grayzel, S. R. (2013) op. cit. 13 Accounts 3. Report called for my O.M.1213/1919, 1/Gen1.No./2368 and 121/9777. TNA WO32/9316/189, p. 1. 14 Accounts 3. Report called for my O.M.1213/1919, 1/Gen1.No./2368 and 121/9777. TNA WO32/9316/189. 15 The Police Review and Parade Gossip, 23 October 1914, p. 516. 16 Letter from the War Office to all Territorial Force Associations and all regional Paymasters, 30 September 1914. TNA MEPOL 2/5543. 17 Brock, M. & Brock, E. (2014) Margot Asquith’s Great War Diary 1914–1916. Oxford: Oxford University Press. 18 Hodge & Garside, op. cit. 19 The Times, The Soldier’s Home. Friday 20 November 1914, p. 5. 20 Accounts 3. op. cit., p. 12. 21 Accounts 3. op. cit., p. 13. 22 Accounts 3. op. cit., p. 14. 23 House of Commons Debates, 18 November 1914, vol 68 col 503. 24 Glasgow Herald, Fraud on the War Office. 10 August 1915, p. 6. 25 Glasgow Herald, Separation Allowance Deceptions. 11 August 1915, p. 4. 26 See for example: The Times, Two Soldier “Husbands.” Woman’s Double Separation Allowance. Monday 31 May 1915, p. 3; The Times, Charge Against an Officer. Two Women and a Separation Allowance. Monday 27 September 1915,

Controversies over the War Separation Allowance  59

27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60

61 62 63 64 65

p. 5; The Glasgow Herald, Fraud on the War Office, Tuesday 10 August 1915, p. 6, and Wednesday 11 August 1915, p. 4. House of Commons Debates, 18 November 1914, vol 68 col 521. House of Commons Debates, 18 November 1914, vol 68 cols, 492–523. Hodge & Garside (1918) ibid. Pedersen, S. (1990) Gender, welfare, and citizenship in Britain during the Great War. The American Historical Review 95, 4, 983–1006. Daily News, 7 November 1914. Pedersen, S. (1990) op. cit. House of Commons Debates, 12 November 1914, vol 68 cols, 70–71. House of Commons Debates, 12 November 1914, vol 68 col. 63. House of Commons Debates, 12 November 1914, vol 68 col, 74. The Glasgow Herald, Friday 18 September 1914, p. 4. The Scotsman, Wednesday 7 October 1914, p. 9. House of Commons Debates, 12 November 1914, vol 68 col, 51. House of Commons Debates, 18 November 1914, vol 68 cols, 469–470. Greville, F. (1916) A Woman and the War. London: Chapman and Hall, p. 26. The Soldiers’ and Sailors’ Families Association. The Thirteenth Annual Report for the Year Ending 31 December, 1914. London: Eyre and Spottiswoode. Hunt, C. (2014) The National Federation of Women Workers, 1906–1921. ­London: Palgrave Macmillan. Sylvia Pankhurst, (1932) The Home Front. London: The Cresset Library, 1987 (reprint). The Police Review and Parade Gossip, 23 October 1914, p. 516. House of Commons Debates, 14 September 1914, vol 66 col, 772. House of Commons Debates, 12 November 1914, vol 68 cols, 152–153. The Times, The Soldier’s Home. Friday 20 November 1914, p. 5. Hunt. C. op. cit. The Police Review and Parade Gossip, 6 November 1914, p. 539. House of Commons Debates, 18 November 1914, vol 68 col, 510. The Spectator, Archive, 28 November 1914, p. 14. Gregory, A. (2008) The Last Great War. New York: Cambridge University Press. The Police Review and Parade Gossip, 6 November 1914, p. 539. House of Commons Debates, 18 November 1914, vol 68 col, 487. House of Commons Debates, 12 November 1914, vol 68 cols, 60–61. House of Commons Debates, 18 November 1914, vol 68 col, 525. Strachan, H. (2001) The First World War. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Braybon, G. & Summerfield P. (2012) Out of the Cage: Women’s Experiences of Two World Wars. London: Pandora Press. The Inebriates Act (1898) ibid. The Times, Lost Child Lives, Tuesday 31 July 1917, p. 2, gives a comparison of numbers of deaths of infants under 1 year from overlying in England and Wales for the years 1913–1916 and compares these with the numbers of females ­convicted for drunkenness. The neglect of children was enshrined in The Children Act 1904, but protection against the overlying of children became a major section in the Amendments of 1908. Grayzel, S. R. (2013) ibid. See the well-quoted speech by Lord Kitchener on not treating the troops to drink. The Scotsman, Wednesday 7 October 1914, p. 9, which became part of the extended Defence of the Realm Act enacted on 19 May 1915. Bland, L. (1985) ‘In the Name of Protection: The Policing of Women in the First World War.’ In Brophy, J. & Smart, C (eds), Women in Law: Explorations in Law Family and Sexuality. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul. The Police Review and Parade Gossip, 20 November 1914, p. 560.

60  Controversies over the War Separation Allowance 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77

Home Office to Chief Constables, no 191, 20 October 1914, TNA HO 158/16. The Police Review and Parade Gossip, 20 November 1914, p. 560. The Police Review and Parade Gossip, 20 November 1914, p. 560. Braybon, G. & Summerfield P. (2012) ibid. The Police Review and Parade Gossip, 20 November 1914, p. 560. The Police Review and Parade Gossip, 20 November 1914, p. 560. House of Commons Debates, 12 November 1914, vol 68 col, 75. House of Commons Debates, 12 November 1914, vol 68 col, 75. House of Commons Debates, 12 November 1914, vol 68 col. 75. TNA PIN15/3310/53c. Daily News, 7 November 1914. Wintour, B. (2014) (compiler) Britain and the Great War, 1914–1918. Englefield Green: Greenengle Publishing. 78 Wusson, H. (1998) ibid. 79 Daily Citizen, 8 December 1914. Available from the Gertrude Tuckwell collection. TUC Library Collections at the London Metropolitan University; Item 661. 80 House of Commons Debates, 12 November 1914, vol 68 col. 160. 81 House of Commons Debates, 18 November 1914, vol 68 cols. 522–523. 82 The Police Review and Parade Gossip, 20 November 1914, p. 563. 83 House of Commons Debates, 12 November 1914, vol 68 col. 75. 84 The Police Review and Parade Gossip, 20 November 1914, p. 563. 85 The Police Review and Parade Gossip, 20 November 1914, p. 563. 86 Nottingham Evening Post, 1 February 1915. 87 Bland, L. (1985) op. cit., pp. 23–49. 88 The Police Review and Parade Gossip, 27 November 1914, p. 593. 89 The Police Review and Parade Gossip, 20 November 1914, p. 560. 90 Gertrude Tuckwell collection (1914) ibid. 91 Daily News, 7 November 1914. 92 Bland, L. (1985) op. cit., pp. 23–49. 93 Levine, P. (1994) ‘Walking the Streets in a Way no Decent Woman Should’: Women Police in World War One. Journal of Modern History. 66 (March), 34–78. 94 Gertrude Tuckwell collection (1914) ibid. 95 Gertrude Tuckwell collection (1914) ibid. 96 Gertrude Tuckwell collection (1914) ibid. 97 The Weekly Dispatch, 6 December 1914. 98 Wilson, T. (1988) The Myriad Faces of War, Cambridge, Polity Press, p. 162. 99 The Soldiers’ and Sailors’ Families Association, op. cit. 100 Gertrude Tuckwell collection (1914) ibid. 101 Gertrude Tuckwell collection (1914) ibid. 102 Gertrude Tuckwell collection (1914) ibid. 103 Gertrude Tuckwell collection (1914) ibid. 104 Gertrude Tuckwell collection (1914) ibid. 105 The Weekly Dispatch, 6 December 1914. Obtained from the Labour History Archive and Study Centre, People’s History Museum/University of Central ­Lancashire Ref. LP/WNC/13/4/2/1–30. 106 Op. cit. 107 Op. cit. 108 Reynolds’ Weekly Newspaper. 6 December 1914. From the Labour History ­A rchive, op. cit. 109 Labour History Archive (1914) op. cit. 110 Ibid. 111 Ibid. 112 Reynolds’ Weekly Newspaper, 6 December 1914.

Controversies over the War Separation Allowance  61 1 13 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121

1 22 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 1 35 136 137 138 1 39 140 1 41 142

143 1 44

Gertrude Tuckwell collection (1914) ibid. TNA PIN15/3310. Daily Chronicle, 5 December 1914. Grayzel, S. R. (2013) op. cit. Gertrude Tuckwell collection (1914) ibid. Ibid. Ibid. Labour History Archive (1914) op. cit. Evidence taken from the women’s Advisory Committee of the Central ­Control Board (Liquor Traffic) TNA HO 185/258 Women’s Advisory Committee. Sir Edward Henry, KCB, GCVO, Chief Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police. Called and Examined. Wednesday 17 November 1915, p. 3. The Police Review and Parade Gossip, 11 December 1914, p. 603. Ibid., p. 603. Gertrude Tuckwell collection (1914) op. cit. The Police Review and Parade Gossip, 11 December 1914, p. 603. The Police Review and Parade Gossip, 18 December 1914, p. 612. Gertrude Tuckwell collection (1914) op. cit. The Police Review and Parade Gossip, 18 December 1914, p. 612. Naval and Military War Pensions &c., Act 1915 (c.83), enacted 10 November 1915. Pedersen, S. (1993) Family Dependence and the Origins of the Welfare State. ­Britain and France: Cambridge University Press. Evidence taken from the women’s Advisory Committee of the Central Control Board (Liquor Traffic) TNA HO 185/258 Women’s Advisory Committee. Op. cit, p. 24. TNA PIN15/3310. Letter to Sir Edward Henry, Chief Constable, Metropolitan Police dated 10 February 1917. TNA PIN15/3310 PG/196. Letter from Sir Edward Henry to Jackson, 15 Feb­ ruary 1917. Defence of the Realm Act (No 3). An Act to extend the Defence of the Realm Consolidation Act, 1914, enacted 19 May 1915. Intoxicating Liquor (Temporary Restrictions) Act, September 1914. Williams, G. P. & Brake, G. T. (1980) Drink in Great Britain Chapter 4, The First World War: A Lesson in Control, pp. 45–61. Ibid; and Lord Kitchener’s appeal for sobriety issued by The Press Bureau and published in The Scotsman on Monday 26 October 1914, p. 6. Letter from the Dundee Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children, 18 December 1914, and reply from the Secretary for Scotland, 28 December 1914. The National Archives of Scotland Ref. No. HH31/7/2. The Police Review and Parade Gossip, 12 November 1915, p. 565. First and Second Annual Report of the Minister of Pensions (PP 1919, Vol. 27, CMD 14; 1920 Vol. 22); Report of the War Pensions Etc. Statutory Committee, PP 1917–1918 Vol. 17, Cd. 8750. TNA PIN15/3310. See, for example, The Times, Two Soldier “Husbands.” Woman’s Double Separation Allowance. Monday, 31 May 1915, p. 3; The Times, Charge Against an Officer. Two Women and a Separation Allowance. Monday, 27 September 1915, p. 5; The Glasgow Herald, Fraud on the War Office, Tuesday, 10 August 1915, p. 6; and Wednesday, 11 August 1915, p. 4; The Times, Separation Allowance: Charge of Making False Statement, Thursday, 26 July 1917. The Police Review and Parade Gossip, 25 February 1916, p. 87. The Police Review and Parade Gossip, 14 April 1916, p. 178.

62  Controversies over the War Separation Allowance 45 1 146 147 148 149 150 1 51 152 153 154

The Police Review and Parade Gossip, 14 April 1916, p. 178. The Police Review and Parade Gossip, 2 June 1916, p. 256. The Police Review and Parade Gossip, 2 June 1916, p. 266. The Police Review and Parade Gossip, 2 June 1916, p. 260. Pedersen, S. (1990) op. cit. Duncan, R. (2013) Pubs and Patriots: The Drink Crisis in Britain during World War One. Liverpool: Liverpool University Press. Grayzel, S. R. (2013) op. cit. See Bridgeman, I. & Emsley, C. (1989) A guide to the Archives of the Police Forces of England and Wales. Milton Keynes: The Open University. Peel, C.S. (1929) How We Lived Then 1914–1918: A Sketch of Social and ­Domestic Life in England during the War. London: John Lane. Brock, M. & Brock, E. (2014) op. cit.

4 Policing alcohol

The continuing war saw the police working within the dominant discourse of the control of drunkenness, which became refocussed to be seen as essential for national efficiency in order to win the war. Previous temperance discourses of self-­­control or state prohibition continued to be undermined by government and employers, except when they promoted national efficiency to increase productivity; this led to new government organisations being set up that spread widely into the community, along with new methods to investigate problem drinkers. The control of drunkenness was resisted by individuals, groups and organisations. Overindulgence in alcohol was said to be an historic problem, with consumption in the 30 years before the war the highest on record [1]; drunkenness was said to result in around 30% of criminal prosecutions [2]; they “were the bread and butter for the criminal justice system” [3]. Attempts at its control were very difficult, as the embittered strife of the Licensing Bill of 1908 [4] to reduce the number of licenses by around a third, showed. The disastrous passage of this Bill, thrown out by the House of Lords and vehemently protested by the Trade [5] made political leaders hesitant to renew attempts to find a solution, as Lloyd George said before introducing a Bill to drastically limit the sale of alcohol in 1915: “Every Government that has ever touched alcohol has burnt its fingers in its lurid flames” [6]. Before the outset of war, despite increased taxation and the progress of public education, statistics showed that the number of convictions for drunkenness and the amounts consumed annually continued to rise: convictions for drunkenness in England and Wales in 1913 were around 190,000 [7] and over 50,000 in Scotland [8], but convictions for drunkenness were said to be notoriously unreliable as an indicator of sobriety [9]. Drunkenness, particularly amongst women, was seen as a sign of the degeneration of the nation, with temperance societies and movements pleading for self-­­restraint or ­prohibition [10]. The outbreak of war saw renewed efforts by temperance societies, such as the National Temperance Federation and the United Kingdom Alliance, a prohibitionist temperance organisation, which attempted to control the

64  Policing alcohol discourse by urging government to introduce major legislation for stricter control of the liquor trade backed up by public meetings [11, 12]. This was reflected in the press, in particular The Spectator campaigned for prohibition [13]. In parliament, the Liberal Member and President of the United Kingdom Alliance Leif Jones urged government action [14]. Drinking became increasingly a matter of national concern with prohibitionists presenting it as a symbol of national decline, creating a sense of social anxiety [15]: In wartime, incidents, which previously may have been ignored, now became obvious examples of societal breakdown and provided the mentality for action to be taken on the drink question. A large proportion of “news” was devoted to reports about what was classed as deviant behaviour of the time and its consequences. [16] In peacetime, although a severe annoyance for the police, the drunk was seen as responsible for him or herself (it was widely recognised that misuse of alcohol was the main cause of crime and poverty [17]), but in wartime, the drunk was seen as an economic loss to the country who delayed others from efficient production of war materials. As workers were often members of a production line, one person holding up production meant the whole line was unable to work. “Drink spelt danger” [18]: loss of efficiency at home meant loss of life abroad … the case against drink was that it impaired efficiency … Drink retarded the output of munitions, hampered and hindered the transit of troops and stores, and incited to indiscipline in the services. [19] War gave the opportunity for age-­­old discourses about drink leading to degeneration of the nation to be refocused on national efficiency to win the war. The case for loss of efficiency was made in the production of war materials at home as well as for the troops while stationed at home. As Prime Minister Asquith said on 16th November 1914, most of the new troops were decent and sober men, but the authorities should remove the temptation of drink from them. Determination to reduce drunkenness within a week of the outbreak of war refocused as a state responsibility, which started politically with W. H. Dickinson’s question in the House of Commons to the Home Secretary: what were the powers: he and the magistrates had for reducing the facilities for obtaining intoxicating liquor during the war, either by limiting the hours during which or the places at which such liquor may be obtained, and whether he will see that measures be taken for this purpose?

Policing alcohol  65 Home Secretary McKenna replied that he had no power. It was a matter for the local justices to reduce the hours of sale if they were satisfied there was a disturbance or prospect of a disturbance, and he had no doubt they would use their powers if the occasion should arise [20]. However, the government quickly took control by advancing further measures. The Home Secretary introduced a short Bill to the House of Commons on 25 August which gave restrictions to local authorities on the sale and consumption of liquor by restricting opening hours to 9 PM or 11 PM rather than 12.30 AM. A Bill was also requested by the Naval and Military authorities. The Intoxicating L ­ iquor (Temporary Restrictions) Bill, passed on 31 August 1914, gave Licensing Justices the power to suspend the sale or consumption of alcohol in licensed premises or registered clubs on the recommendation of the Chief Constable, if the maintenance of order or the suppression of drunkenness was needed. The Home Secretary asked Chief Constables to review the circumstances in their districts along with the military authorities. Indeed, Chief Constables were encouraged to be more generous in their recommendations: They have not got to wait for an increase in the existing drunkenness. They are not to treat the existing drunkenness as though it were an irreducible minimum; they are given powers at a time of national crisis which they may exercise, if they think it is desirable, to reduce the drunkenness which exists. [21] However, in this Bill, closing earlier than 9 PM could only be for 2 weeks without the approval of the Secretary of State, limiting its impact [22]. In Scotland, little action was taken as opening hours were already stricter [23]. The Bill gave Naval and Military authorities new powers over the troops in or near any naval or military area to control the supply of alcohol to soldiers and sailors, including travelling to a port for embarkation and at railway stations where scenes of drunkenness were notorious. While the public saw treating the troops to a drink as giving them a good send-­off, for the authorities, drunkenness often accompanied scenes of departure with likely delays to embarkation. Troop movements and other social dislocations during the early part of the war was also said to bring an increase in drinking [24]. The effect of the Bill was restrictions across Britain to the sale and supply of alcohol. The police came under increased pressure to root out drunkenness and Chief Constables recommended restricted opening times. By ­September and October 1914, Justices had made 259 restriction orders out of 1,000 licensing districts in England and Wales. Evening closure was fixed at 8 PM in 7 areas, 9 PM in 156 areas and 10 PM in 96 areas. In fifty areas, opening times were restricted, usually to 8 AM but some were 9 AM (these restrictions cut between 2 and 3 hours off the drinking day). In Scotland, restriction orders were set in Greenock and Dundee. By the end of 1914, 427

66  Policing alcohol restriction orders had been placed in England and Wales [25]1; some were for specific public houses or for larger areas and were of short duration, such as during the hours when troops were gathered ready to depart, and some were for longer periods where camps to train troops were being built to prevent drunkenness amongst the workforce. The effect in London was seen immediately, as brawling and intemperance was said to have stopped: A transformation of the night scenes of London has followed from the closing of public houses at 11pm. Great traffic centres, like the Elephant and Castle, at which immense crowds usually lounge until one o’clock in the morning, have suddenly become peaceful and respectable. The police, instead of having to “move on” numbers of people who have dislodged from the bars at 12.30 at night, found very little intoxication to deal with. [26] The Chairman of the London Sessions also noted a fall in crimes of violence. Before the earlier closing time was imposed in October, charges of wounding averaged 12 per month, which was reduced to two cases in ­November and none in December [27]. Limiting drinking was also attempted by increasing taxation on beer, starting in November 1914. But these measures did not stem moral criticism which continued to rain down on drinkers unabated from temperance advocates, who blamed the government for not dealing with the problem. Brewers were also targeted for making huge profits, seen as creating “drunkenness, poverty, ignorance and vice to all classes” [28]. Women were a particular target, using the discourse of the degeneration of the nation: The early months of the war witnessed sustained moral criticism of female drinking from temperance advocates, radical liberals and social reformers highlighting the drunken female as the archetypal ­representation of Britain’s decline in moral virtue. [29] The Intoxicating Liquor (Temporary Restrictions) Bill was also seen as insufficient to deal with the effects of alcohol on industry. By the end of the first year of the war, the public were demanding much bolder measures. The Bill also caused problems for the police in identifying how to deal with those claiming to be bona fide travellers on licensed premises and whether they were exempt from the restrictions. The police suspected that many who claimed to be bona fide travellers were merely travelling outside the restricted boundaries in order to obtain alcohol. A series of questions from March to June 1915 asked The Police Review for interpretation of the different rulings given in different locations: in Cheshire and Lancashire, Leeds and ­Pontypridd which portrayed the police difficulty. Decisions by Magistrates in these locations

Policing alcohol  67 differed on the point of whether alcohol could be served and consumed by a friend of the publican during closing hours, which did not require the former to pay for it, or whether the bona fide traveller was treated as a customer and paid for his drink. In Leeds, the ­Magistrate dismissed a case of a licensee drinking privately with his guests and showed his displeasure against the police for bringing such a case by awarding costs against them, giving a warning in other similar cases. However, in the other locations, Magistrates prosecuted licensees for drinking privately with friends during restricted hours [30]. The debate, which ran for 4 weeks, showed the police the care that was needed in bringing similar cases to court. Restrictions continued into 1915, as shown in Birmingham, where the sale of alcohol was limited between 10.30 AM and 10 PM on weekdays [31]. In areas affected by restrictions, notices were often displayed prominently in public houses; some were of blacklists of people who should not be sold liquor due to their history of giving it to the troops. Lord Kitchener, Minister for War, in a Message to the Nation on 24 October 1914, also appealed for the public not to treat the troops to drink: The men who have recently joined the Colours are doing their utmost to prepare themselves for active service with the least possible delay. The result can only be achieved if by hard work and strict sobriety they keep themselves thoroughly fit and healthy. Lord Kitchener appeals to the public, both men and women, to help the soldiers in their task. He begs everyone to avoid treating the men to drink, and to give them every assistance in resisting temptations which are often placed before them. Lord Kitchener suggests that in the neighbourhoods where soldiers are stationed committees should be formed to educate public opinion on this subject, and to bring home its importance to those who prevent our soldiers from being able to do their duty to their country in a thoroughly efficient manner. [32] This statement by the nation’s wartime leader, framed alcohol moderation as everyone’s responsibility for the good of the nation. However, although much improvement was seen in the streets, the measures were insufficient to deal with what became seen as industrial absenteeism and inefficiency, particularly when there was continual pressure on industry for the production of war materials. 29 March 1915 saw a deputation to the Chancellor Lloyd George from the Shipbuilding Employers’ Federation to urge “the total prohibition during the period of the War of the sale of excisable liquors” [33]. A letter from the Executive of the Transport Workers Federation also urged “immediate and decisive action to reduce the results of intemperance to a minimum” [34]. Lloyd George built his case for further restrictions by giving an example of time lost in vital war production in the House of Commons on 29 April 1915:

68  Policing alcohol I will take a firm where there is practically no Sunday labour. Monday is usually the worst day, and that is after a day and a half rest. This firm gave three days’ holiday during Easter for rest. On the Tuesday after Easter, after three days’ rest, out of 8,000 men 1,800 failed to turn up, and 1,431 in the engine and boiler-­shop, and 666 in the repair department. The first 1,800 are in the shipyard department; the 1,431 are out of 4,500 in the engine and boiler departments, and the 666 are out of 1,000 in the repair department. On the following day 3,000 men—I am giving round figures, it is precisely 2,916—were out from work in the first quarter of the day. That is after a holiday, and of this number 1,670 remained out all the day. The following day 2,500 were out the first quarter, and 1,500 were out all day. That is after three days for recruitment and r­ estoration of strength. I can give no end of cases of this kind. [35] He gave similar examples of the collection of statistics on absences in munitions factories and transport. His compelling speech in the Commons gave considerable evidence of delays and poor workmanship across Britain and in every industry producing war materials. It was a wake-­up call to the nation to find ways to improve production [36]. However, privately Lloyd George admitted on 30 April 1915 to a colleague that “the idea that slackness and drink, which people talk so much about, are the causes of delay, is mostly fudge” [37] – a powerful attempt to hide government mismanagement, said to be the real cause of shortages in shipping, manpower and munitions [38]. Furthermore, the evidence was criticised [39] in terms of its accuracy and the methods by which it was collected in a minute from the Admiralty to Churchill: the very worst form of evidence on which to ground a general indictment against the ordinary labour of the country is ex parte statements made by its employers. [40] However, a number of factors, including the energetic campaign by Lloyd George to increase sobriety, made further control of alcohol by government essential in the name of national efficiency to win the war. Previous discourses by the temperance movement, voluntary organisations and the churches to the detrimental effects of alcohol on the national character and the appeal to individuals to the effects of alcohol on their lives with the threat of degeneration of the nation were swept aside in the new appeal to national efficiency, needing a reduction in alcohol consumption to win the war [41]. Strong measures by the government were seen as necessary as by December 1914 many individuals and families had increased their income as a result of the high levels of employment with large amounts of overtime work, war bonuses and State allowances. British Temperance Movement leaders were brought into the discourse of state control of alcohol, as the

Policing alcohol  69 Liberal politician Leif Jones pointed out in the House of Commons on 10 May 1915 – due to the huge demand for labour in the war industries, many men who would not otherwise have been considered for employment had been employed; this intensified the absenteeism and poor quality work [42]. Indeed, by January 1915, high levels of employment showed there was insufficient casual labour in London to clear a fall of snow [43]. National statistics showed that high wages and full employment supported an increase in the sale of spirits by 3%, followed each successive month by further increases in sales, until by March 1915 the sale of spirits had risen by 26%. Evidence abounded from many disparate sources of the link between increased wages and increased alcohol consumption: during the Boer War (1899–1902) high wages led to excessive drinking [44]. The editor of the Judicial Statistics for 1899 noted the link between increased prosperity and increased drunkenness [45], and also showed a link between convictions for drunkenness and levels of employment [46]. With increased production of war materials and their efficient transportation seen as essential, Lloyd George’s speech in Bangor, North Wales, on 28 February 1915, appealed to industry of the need for the efficient production of ships and munitions: I hear of workmen in armament works who refuse to work a full week for the nation’s need. What is the reason? Sometimes it is one thing, sometimes it is another, but let us be perfectly candid. It is mostly the lure of drink … Drink is doing more damage in the war than all the German submarines put together. [47] His speech was seen as a watershed in political attitudes to alcohol consumption. Two months of debate and enquiry in parliament followed involving 33 plain clothes Special Branch policemen being sent to discover the cause of lost time in the shipyards, which was seen as reporting on drinking habits and drinking opportunities. Critics said that with this remit, it would have been difficult not to conclude that drink was the root of the evil. They reported that the Clyde was worse than Plymouth and the problem of absenteeism was particularly bad on Mondays [48]. These damning reports were sent to the First Lord of the Admiralty [49]. Lloyd George continued to build the discourse of national efficiency needing strong central control by government of drunkenness by giving an estimate to the House of Commons of the amount spent on alcohol in Britain during 1914 of £160,000,000, to demonstrate the size of the problem [50]. His campaign of appeals to the public to reduce their alcohol intake or to abstain altogether involved trying to persuade many high-­profile figures, the most prominent being the King, to abstain from alcohol for the remainder of the war and not to allow it into the royal palaces (the King’s Pledge), which received national headlines [51]. The voluntary sector also joined the discourse with appeals to the nation for self-­control by churches and temperance societies. But these were

70  Policing alcohol undermined by the House of Commons’ refusal to agree not to serve alcohol in the Commons’ bars [52]. Further impetus for the nation to be more efficient in the production of war materials followed the shell shortage scandal of 1915, which was given full airing in the press [53,54]. They blamed the government, particularly Lord Kitchener, Secretary of State for War, for the failure of the battle of Aubers Ridge in May 1915 due to lack of high explosives. A national shortage of ammunition was already in the public consciousness after the Battle of Neuve Chapelle (10–13 March 1915), which raised public anxiety. Aubers Ridge increased this public anxiety and combined with Prime Minister Asquith’s ill-­advised speech in Newcastle on 20 April 1915, in which he denied a shell shortage [55], contributed to his downfall and promoted the sense of urgency for the government to find a solution to increase the production of armaments [56]. Indeed, the national hysteria about alcohol consumption and its effects is shown in The Times: The question of drink in connection with the production of war materials is getting a little out of perspective … To magnify a single point until it assumes monstrous proportions and blocks out everything else is the certain road to failure. The problem is to increase the production of war material, but it is in danger of disappearing from view in a cloud of controversial dust about the age long subject of drink. [57] This gathering anxiety about the need for the state to further control the nation’s alcohol consumption led to setting up other institutions with wider powers over the community and individuals. The Central Control Board (CCB) (Liquor Traffic) chaired by Lord D’Abernon, was set up on 10 June 1915 under the Defence of the Realm Act (Liquor Control) Regulations, 1915,2 as part of the Ministry of Munitions, who appointed Board members. The purpose of the Act was clearly stated as: increasing directly or indirectly the efficiency of labour in such areas (as covered by the Defence of the Realm (Amendment) (No. 3) Act), and preventing the efficiency of such areas from being impaired by ­drunkenness, alcoholism, or excess. [58, p. 289] The powers of the Board were wide-­ranging and were said to be both restrictive and constructive, including the following: a Closing any licensed premises3 altogether or for the sale of alcohol only; b Regulating the hours during which licensed premises may open; c Prohibiting the sale or supply of any class of alcohol (e.g. certain named spirits or strengths of beers); d The sale or supply of alcohol being subject to conditions or restrictions;

Policing alcohol  71 e f

Regulating the introduction of alcohol into an area or its transport within the area; All licensed premises in a restricted area being under the supervision of the Board.

Restrictions also forbade anyone from treating another person to drink [59], as standing a round of drinks between a group of people was said to lead to overindulgence. Further restrictions included “the long pull”4 and giving credit to customers. The Board could suspend licenses and acquire or compulsorily purchase any licensed premises for the sale of alcohol or other items, such as food. They could also order the dilution of spirits. Surveillance to impose these measures were widespread – representatives of the Board could enter and inspect any premises said to be selling alcohol. Punishment for non- ­compliance by contraventions of the Act could result in a maximum of 6 months in prison with or without hard labour or a maximum fine of £100 and made it the duty of the police to enforce the regulations.5 On the constructive side, the Board could enter commercial premises to encourage the setting up of canteens for workers, which could also be used by the general public, for food to be served during working hours, including night shifts; canteens could also provide entertainment. The Board quickly started work with a number of measures to control alcohol consumption, showing how the discourse of state control of drunkenness spread across Britain. One of the first measures was to restrict sales in the port of Newhaven, where munitions were shipped to France. In July, public houses and licensed clubs in restricted areas were only open between 12 noon and 2.30 PM and from 6 PM to 8 PM on weekdays and between 12.30 PM and 2 PM and from 6 PM to 8 PM on Sundays. This limited the drinking day to 4 ½ hours on weekdays and 3 ½ hours on Sundays. Off-­sales were limited from 12 noon to 2.30 PM on Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays [60]. Applications for areas to be restricted could be made through the Ministry of Munitions, the War Office or the Admiralty who sent out a team of investigators representing naval, military and civil authorities as well as representatives of employers and workers locally. Temperance and religious organisations could give evidence separately [61]. The Chief Constable supplied reports. The Board then decided what local action to take. However, some criticised this procedure as being dominated by the police: the inquiries are largely conducted by chief constables committed simply to doing whatever the Board considered fit to suggest. [62] But there was widespread approval of the Board’s work in reducing convictions for drunkenness, particularly in the North of England, as noted in The Times: The liquor regulations which have lately been applied to some of the most important transport and munitions areas have had striking results.

72  Policing alcohol Figures which have come to hand from several of the areas show that there has been a very considerable reduction in the number of prosecutions and convictions for drunkenness. The following comparative table gives the number of convictions before and after the application of the regulations to four important boroughs on the North East Coast: Table 2  Convictions on the North East Coast before and after Regulations (Chapter 4)

Newcastle Gateshead South Shields Middlesbrough

Coverage 4 Weeks before Order

First Week of Order

Second Week

76 28 19 45

36 9 12 14

43 5 8 17

The first week’s returns for Liverpool are very similar. There were 217 prosecutions for drunkenness in the week before the order came into force. In the next week the number fell to 118. Birkenhead showed the same tendency, but not to so great a degree. The average number of convictions for the four weeks before the order came into force was 20. During the first week the order was in force it was 17. [63] However, 3 days later, The Times drew comparisons between the North of England, where restrictions were in force, and the East End of London, identifying the Victoria Docks as a particular location, where the clergy and the police said there was open drunkenness, particularly amongst women [64], drawing this to public attention and putting pressure on the Control Board to impose restrictions. The Times also identified London railway stations and public houses around Waterloo, Victoria and Euston. The continuing discourse of drinking amongst women led the CCB to set up a Women’s Advisory Committee of the CCB: to enquire and advise the Board regarding the alleged excessive drinking among women, and to suggest what action, if any, is required in the interest of national efficiency. [65] It reported, with recommendations, on 18 February 1916. Although Greenaway suggests that the local police and local authorities put pressure on the CCB to extend restrictions [66], evidence from the police also shows that Lord D’Abernon courted their involvement and asked for their

Policing alcohol  73 ­suggestions for increasing sobriety. Within 4 months of his appointment, Lord ­D’Abernon spoke at the Chief Constable’s conference on 24 September 1915. These conferences were also attended by local councillors, justices and members of the Home Office. He said the increased sobriety among seamen and firemen in the ports and among shipyard and munitions workers had resulted in a marked improvement in timekeeping. Reports received from eight scheduled areas – Newhaven, Southampton, Barrow, Dartford, North East Coast, Bristol, Liverpool and Cardiff – showed a marked decrease in prosecutions for drunkenness: The total weekly average prosecutions for drunkenness in these areas for the four weeks preceding the Board’s orders was 734; the total weekly average to date, subsequent to the order coming into force, is 396 – a decrease of over 40 per cent. Since the order had been in force prosecutions in Liverpool have been reduced from 240 to 164 a week; in Newcastle-­on-Tyne from 84 to 54; in Durham Co. from 70 to 48; in Northumberland from 42 to 20; and in Cardiff from 13 to 5. [67] He told his audience that these results exceeded his expectations but warned that the habits of a lifetime were not likely to be changed in a month as new methods to evade the order would be devised. He asked the police to be vigilant to meet these new evasions. As the drinks trade and those who made their living from the sale of alcohol resisted the CCB’s work, evasions were likely. Those attending the conference gave their unanimous approval of the orders, but Duncan argues that initial assessments of Lord D’Abernon’s character were uncomplimentary as he showed a level of self-­c onfidence that could be mistaken for arrogance and self- ­c ongratulation. However, with hindsight, this was erroneous as he was “a most capable man and a central figure in the resolution of the drink problem” [68]. The Police Review took the warning of evasions seriously by telling its readers in October 1915, that being vigilant over alcohol orders could lead some policemen to look decidedly foolish in public and would lose the respect of Justices, as the case of Joseph Phillips of Glasgow showed. He was taken to court by Constable McPhail for drinking a glass of beer 10 minutes before the due opening hour of 12 noon. Both Phillips and the public house owner, James McDonald Gardner, said the time on the clock in the public house and on both their watches showed 12.05, but the constable was determined to prosecute and so referred to the public clock in the street, which showed 11.55. Sheriff Lyell gave a severe reprimand to the constable: I think it is quite out of the question to walk a respectable working man through the streets of Glasgow because he was supposed to have broken

74  Policing alcohol new regulations by about three minutes …. It was not part of the Liquor Restriction Regulations that every man should go round and compare the times on all electric clocks before entering a public house. [69] In view of this judgement, three other similar cases were dropped, although the publican was warned that he should ensure it was the correct time before opening his premises. This resistance to the alcohol restrictions was originally reported in the Glasgow Evening News and reproduced in The Police Review to demonstrate to the police that care was needed in making such arrests to avoid ridicule. The Board’s work continued apace nationally and locally, particularly highlighting some areas in Scotland where, in the first few months of their work, restrictions were seen as difficult to enforce. It showed unwillingness to bow to trivial penalties for breaches of its Orders and acted rigorously: The imposition of comparatively trivial penalties for breaches of the ­ rders, and certain adverse legal decisions by Sheriffs – since reversed O by the higher Courts – may be said to have disposed license-­holders who are not well affected to the policy of restriction, to disregard the provision of the Orders. The Board have recently taken steps to enforce respect for the law: seventeen licenses, in cases of proved misconduct, have been suspended for the remainder of the period for which they were granted, and it is now possible to report an improvement in the situation. [70] Strict enforcement by the Board’s officers resulted in the removal of licenses. The first report of the CCB dated 12 October 1915 ran to three pages [71]. Lord D’Abernon’s portrayal of the September conference with the Chief Constables was that they unanimously agreed that better public order and behaviour had prevailed in the 14 areas covered by the Board’s restrictions. This, he said, was particularly due to the prohibition of treating, credit sales and restricted opening hours. The report showed that the Board had held local enquiries at which naval, military and civil authorities, representatives of employers and workmen could put their views, and also received reports from Chief Constables: figures showing particulars of prosecutions and convictions for drunkenness in each of the four weeks immediately prior to the commencement of the Order and in each week since it came into force. They have also received from a number of Chief Constables, Medical Officers of Health, employers of labour, men’s representatives, and from philanthropic associations, opinions upon the working and effects of the Order. [72]

Policing alcohol  75 This showed the wide use of officials to judge the population’s compliance with alcohol restrictions. Until mid-1916, the work of the Board was portrayed by most police as largely welcomed and acknowledged as successful in combatting drunkenness, as seen in the decreasing number of arrests for drunkenness in restricted areas, particularly Newcastle and the North East Coast; Liverpool and Merseyside; Birmingham and the Midlands; the West Riding of Yorkshire; London; and the East Central, West Central, Northern and Western Border of Scotland. Returns were sent weekly to the Board from Chief Constables [73]. The work of the CCB continued apace. Their second annual report, published in May 1916 covering the period April 1915 to end March 1916, received extensive coverage in The Times [74]. The statistics showed that about two-­thirds of the population of Britain was now covered by 27 control orders. It had been found necessary to join smaller areas, which were separated by only thin pieces of land together, to guard against bona fide travellers. The report showed much of Britain had been “transformed into one great camp or arsenal,” making it necessary to control wide swathes of the country in a single order. These drastic measures gave the control of drunkenness increased priority for the police: The Head Constable of Reigate is of the opinion that it is a mistaken kindness to be too lenient in the punishment of female drunkenness, while it is equally absurd to convey a woman all the way to Holloway for seven day’s imprisonment in default of paying a fine of 5s. or 10s. He suggests that in many cases three or four days’ detention in the Police cells would be the best punishment that could be inflicted. The expense would be a negligible item, while the detention would give the prisoner time to think, and secure abstinence from intoxicants during the period. Mr Metcalf strongly recommends that the magistrates should support the Watch Committee in an application to the Home Secretary to authorise 1 or 2 cells at Reigate for this purpose. [75] It showed how treatment of drunkenness in women by the police was to recommend isolation from the community by imprisonment. As this report was in February 1916, the Chief Constable of Reigate was likely making the case to include his area in the restrictions. Reigate was included as a restricted area in July 1916 [76]. The Second Report of the CCB claimed that the decrease in drunkenness had “rapidly accelerated when the Board’s Orders were issued, and that the subsequent improvement has been progressive, and still continues” (p. 26),6 which was said to raise the standard of efficiency necessary to win the war, including improved timekeeping and increased output of munitions. The police also reported many fewer drunken people were seen on the streets and, due to the increase in the size of restricted areas, bona fide travellers were much less in evidence, if not eliminated.

76  Policing alcohol However, when the work of the Control Board continued into 1916, it aroused increasing hostility, particularly amongst the drinks trade: We warn Lloyd George and the unconcerned and uncontrolled Lord D’Abernon that the people are becoming restless and dissatisfied. The silly restrictions are a burden and an insult to the best community in the world, who have done nothing to deserve such a moral straight waistcoat. [77] The Brewers Gazette referred to the actions of the Control Board as arising from “bigotry and tyranny,” unsurprising when the Board ordered licensed premises to be closed on receipt of information that licensees were not conforming to the Board’s orders – licensees being told they were hampering the prosecution of the war [78]. The police also used covert tactics to control licensees, which infuriated them, infringements becoming public knowledge in Grimsby: During the hearing of a licensing case at Grimsby on Friday, it was stated that the evidence was obtained by two Constables disguised as coal heavers. The officers in question were P.C. Bloom and Police Clerk Richardson, both of whom gave evidence. Fines totalling £42 were imposed. [79] Hostility to the Board’s work also came from James Mason, Member of Parliament for Edinburgh East, published in The Scotsman, saying that the Board was attempting to set up a complete system of temperance reform in a haphazard and promiscuous way under the guise of military necessity [80]. These types of arguments would have made the police on the beat and their managers more aware of the controversial nature of alcohol restrictions so that some senior police officers evidently felt they should advise their force on the correct procedure when making an arrest under the Orders, recognising that they could encounter resistance. However, the advice some senior officers gave was said to be suspect and not in the best interests of the policeman on the beat, as the following quotation from the West Riding of Yorkshire shows: I hear of a Superintendent in this Force at the last monthly payday giving a few members of his Division instructions how to proceed in offences under the Liquor Control Order, which is in operation in this County. The instructions were as follows:- On entering licensed premises during restricted hours, and suspecting that a person in the room has been served with intoxicating liquor, you should smell the contents of the glass. If you think it is intoxicating liquor, charge him. Should he

Policing alcohol  77 deny it, you should taste it. Should he still deny it, you should have a little bottle in your pocket, take some of the liquor, and bring it away for the purpose of analysis. The Order gives no power to the Police to seize and take away liquor for the purpose of analysis, nor to go into licensed premises and taste people’s refreshments. A Constable may be justified in smelling the contents of a glass if he has good reasons for so doing. Should any Constable get into trouble in this Superintendent’s Division through acting on his instructions, who will take the consequences? [81] This and other questions and comments from policemen to The Police Review show the importance of the journal in advising and guiding their work in preference to some of the poor advice they said they were given by their superior officers. Indeed, the role of the journal in its education column promotes how the good police officer should behave as follows: Examination Questions. What is the definition of a Habitual Drunkard under the Inebriates Act; under what circumstances may a Habitual Drunkard be ordered to be detained in an inebriate reformatory; and what special instructions are given to Police in dealing with cases of this kind? [82] This educational role appeared at least monthly and involved not only matters of law and practice, as in the above quotation with the answer provided the following month, but also showed its readers how to write reports and gave examples of simple and more complicated mathematics. By May 1917, The Police Review published an editorial praising the Control Board’s reduction of drunkenness by restricting the sale of alcohol in licensed premises, although acknowledging statements in the press that the restrictions had caused increased drinking at home but with little evidence, despite claims to the contrary: there have been disquieting statements in the Press, pointing to a serious increase in the habit of private drinking, particularly by women, though very little evidence has been produced in support of this view. [83] The journal supported claims in The Times that increased drinking at home had not occurred. The Police Review concluded: There is other evidence that the diminution of public drunkenness has not been offset by an increase of private drunkenness, but rather that this, too, has diminished. [84]

78  Policing alcohol The conclusion reached by The Police Review was that the Board’s regulations had produced a great change in the drinking habits of everyone and by reducing availability had reduced drunkenness that would “cleanse our national life.” A column on the Board’s annual report of convictions for drunkenness, published in The Police Review in October 1917, acknowledged that despite a reduction of convictions from 3,300 in England and to 1,000 in Wales, claims were still being made that the decrease in public drinking was being compensated by “a serious increase in home-­drinking.” The journal continued to refute this claim, saying the Board’s report shows “there has been a real change in the drinking habits of the people since 1914” and noted this will lead to a decrease in other forms of crime, which will be “read by the Police with satisfaction and relief” [85]. The editorial in May 1917 accompanied a report of the Chief Constables’ annual meeting, at which Lord D’Abernon was invited to speak and was cheered as he rose. The good relationships between him and the Chief Constables was evident: He praised the police for their energetic cooperation in securing the enforcement of the Board’s orders, which relieved the Board of having to create a special staff, minimising expense to the country. He showed how the number of convictions for drunkenness in 1916 for males in England and Wales had fallen by 59% and for females by 40% compared with those for 1913, with a corresponding decrease in alcoholic disease and mortality, showing the use of medical statistics. He argued that legal control of the drunkard was less effective – imprisonment was of dubious value and an expensive method. Now that the numbers of arrests for drunkenness had fallen, he wished to supplement police evidence with other evidence such as the drunk’s mental and physical condition and other factors, which were thought to be relevant to an investigation of each case to distinguish who would benefit from medical as against institutional care, showing that more close examination of the body of a drunkard was now required. If the authorities recommended institutional care, the individual would be segregated from society for a period of years. He believed that drunkenness was multicausal needing multiple solutions; magistrates would then have ­medical and police evidence on which to base their decisions: Thus he (the magistrate) will know whether the drunkard he is dealing with is an ordinary convivial offender, to be punished with a fine, or is a mental defective, whose proper place is in an institution for the feeble minded, or again is a chronic alcoholic, who will probably have the best chance of recovery if he is sent to an inebriate reformatory, or if, failing to find sureties, he can be committed to goal for three or four months [86] This shows the discourse of state control of the drunkard using increasing methods of surveillance and examination to know the individual by spreading these techniques further into other institutions such as medicine, the prisons and the reformatories. The drunk would find it difficult to hide from

Policing alcohol  79 the authorities who would want to use increasingly detailed methods to investigate his body and his mind, so that “more attention would be given to individual cases of drunkenness, under which fuller use would be made of expert investigation and advice” [87]. According to Foucault, these institutions would categorise the individual and associate categories with the crime to determine the form of punishment needed. D’Abernon asked for a few larger cities to volunteer to try this scheme with their public services. He also asked the Chief Constables to suggest ways to increase the effectiveness of preventing treating others to drink. The President of the Chief Constables’ Association acknowledged that preventing treating was difficult to enforce, but if it could be enforced, it would be “one of the best pieces of temperance work that had ever been passed” [88]. However, some arrests for treating had been made, giving an example to readers: At Southampton yesterday Robert Andrew Smith was fined for treating his wife to a glass of wine in a local public-­house. He said his wife gave him sixpence to pay for her drink. Mrs Smith was also fined £1 for consuming and Dorothy Brown, the barmaid, £5 for selling the intoxicant, contrary to the regulations of the Liquor Control Board. [89] With the reduction in drinking hours and the reduced number of licensed premises, Lord D’Abernon said this made it easier for police surveillance of licensed premises and detection of those not conforming to the Board’s Orders. His evident charm was shown to win over the Chief Constables, Aldermen and Councillors by asking for their advice and comments on his speech, which were freely given. He further advocated a reduction in the number of public houses in England and Wales by around a third, which was currently being considered by the Board. Although Lord D’Abernon won over the police, increased resistance by the drinks trade to the Control Board’s work developed coincidentally due to the increasing food shortages from the blockade which started in earnest in February 1917. Stocks of wheat, barley and sugar used in the production of alcohol made the Food Controller restrict the production of beer and spirits to attempt to maintain food supplies. Restrictions on beer production were imposed in April 1916 and renewed calls for state purchase of the entire drinks trade emerged. Lord D’Abernon proposed nationwide state purchase to cabinet in December 1916, giving the example of the success of the scheme in Carlisle. However, the Control Board was losing its position in the control of drinking, seen when Prime Minister Lloyd George asked Lord Milner to begin to draft a Bill to introduce state control, as he believed the drinks trade viewed the Control Board with suspicion and dislike and was therefore not suited to undertake the work [90]. Protecting the food supply by limiting the use of wheat, barley and sugar in alcohol production led to shortages of beer in urban and rural areas by May 1917, with many beer houses closing for some days of the week. This led to public resentment

80  Policing alcohol by the working classes, as port, champagne and wine were still widely consumed by the upper classes [91]. By July 1917, the threat of industrial action led the government to increase the brewing of beer by 970,000 barrels – around a third [92]. But, by this time, Lord D’Abernon, although giving advice to government, was increasingly sidelined due to the influence of the Food Controller’s regulations on the use of foodstuffs to make alcohol. This saw the decline of the CCB as it started to lose public confidence. Heckling Lord D’Abernon’s speech in Manchester in February 1918 summed up the tone: “We don’t want an academic speech we want more beer” [93]. However, the work of the Board continued to be very favourably reviewed by the police, as the Chief Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police was reported to have said in December 1918: I believe that we have now reached a low water mark and that no measure, not even of total prohibition, would be likely to bring about any further appreciable reduction in the number of charges of drunkenness. [94] It was evident that the police felt their time and resources should no longer be directed in such large amounts to arrests for drunkenness. In conclusion, the discourse of the control of drunkenness to improve national efficiency to win the war enabled the government to develop a number of strategies, starting with restricting opening hours of licensed premises and ending with large swathes of Britain under the control of the CCB, responsible to government. The Board set up local mechanisms to control access to alcohol across Britain. It won support from the police in helping to control one of their most common arrests, for drunkenness, by promoting surveillance of public houses and clubs and bringing in other disciplines such as medicine to examine and classify individuals who were accused of drunkenness. The link between public anxiety about ­d runkenness, levels of police activity to make arrests for drunkenness and  the number of prosecutions for drunkenness is analysed by Jennings  [95]. The dramatic decrease in the number of convictions for drunkenness once the work of the CCB started was portrayed as partly due to the work of the Board and its charismatic leader Lord D’Abernon. However, the work of the Board was fiercely resisted by the drinks trade. Other factors in the fall in convictions for drunkenness were as follows: (1) the number of full-­time police officers available for surveillance and to make arrests and (2) the levels of public anxiety about other aspects of life at home in Britain, including food supplies, which from 1917 shifted public attention away from the control of drunkenness. These other factors are likely to have encouraged the police to change their focus away from routine arrest for drunkenness onto other, more pressing, activities in the national effort to win the war.

Policing alcohol  81

Notes 1 The Home Secretary refused a few orders for closing before 9 pm. Also, some Justices attempted to act without the Chief Constable’s recommendation – these applications were refused by the Home Secretary. 2 This was under the Defence of the Realm (Amendment) (No. 3) Act, 1915. 3 Licensed premises included not only public houses, but also licensed clubs. 4 Serving more than a standard measure of beer. 5 See the Second Report of the Central Control Board (Liquor Traffic) appointed under the Defence of the Realm (Amendment) (No. 3) Act, 1915. P. 27. 6 Although the Board recognised that standards differed in different locations, “The customs and the standards of the public, the police, and the magistrates vary widely from one locality to another, and have in the past tended to vitiate comparisons between different places or even between different periods in the same place. … Such considerations, however, do not materially modify the inferences which must be drawn from figures which show rapid changes, and such consistent tendencies as are presented” (p. 26).

References 1 Wilson, G. B. (1940) Alcohol and the Nation. A Contribution to the Study of the Liquor Problem in the United Kingdom from 1800–1935. London: Nicholson and Watson. 2 Great Britain. Parliament. House of Commons. Judicial statistics, England and Wales, 1913. Part 1. Criminal Statistics. Statistics Relating to Criminal Proceedings, Police, Coroners, Prisons, Reformatory and Industrial Schools, and Criminal Lunatics, for the Year 1913. 3 Jennings, P. (2012) Policing Drunkenness in England and Wales from the Late Eighteenth Century to the First World War. Social History of Alcohol and Drugs 26, 1, 69–92. 4 Carter, H. (1918) The Control of the Drink Trade: A Contribution to National ­Efficiency 1915–1917. London: Longmans, Green & Co. 5 Greenaway, J. (2003) Drink and British Politics Since 1830: A Study in Policy-­ Making. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, pp. 81–86. 6 House of Commons Debates 29 April 1915, vol 71 c 864. 7 D’Abernon, E. (1917) ‘Preface’. In Carter, H. op. cit. p. x. 8 Brewers Journal (1921) Volume 56, p. 106. Gibson Publishing Company. 9 Williams, G. P. & Brake, G. T. (1980) Drink in Great Britain 1900 to 1979. ­London: Edsall. 10 D’Abernon, E. et al. (1918) Alcohol: Its Action on the Human Organism. New York: Longman, Green and Co. Preface by Lord D’Abernon, pp. iii–x. 11 Emsley, C. (2011) Crime and the Victorians. BBC History. 12 Thom, B. (1994) ‘Women and Alcohol: The Emergence of a Risk Group’. In ­McDonald, M. (ed), Gender, Drink and Drugs. Oxford: Berg, pp. 33–54. 13 Marwick, A. (1965) The Deluge: British Society and the First World War. ­London: Bodley Head, p. 50. 14 Duncan, R. (2013) Pubs and Patriots: The Drink Crisis in Britain during World War One. Liverpool: Liverpool University Press. 15 Duncan, R. ibid, pp. 40–41. 16 Duncan, R. ibid, p. 48. 17 Duncan, R. ibid, p. 54. 18 Carter, H. op. cit, p. 21.

82  Policing alcohol 19 Carter, H. op. cit, p. 5. 20 House of Commons Debates 10 August 1914, vol 65, c 2253. 21 Speech by Mr Charles Roberts, Junior Government Minister at Manchester, 13 October 1914. Reported in the Alliance News November 1914. 22 Carter, H. op. cit. Appendix II, pp. 284–285. 23 Shadwell, A. (1923) Drink in 1914–1922: A Lesson in Control. London and New York: Longmans, Green and Co, p. 4. 24 Turner, J. (1980) State Purchase of the Liquor Trade in the First World War. The Historical Journal 23, 3, 589–615. 25 Carter, H. op. cit, pp. 32–33. 26 Brewers’ Gazette, 24 September 1914. Quoted in Carter, H. op. cit, p. 36. 27 Part, A. (1915) Licensing Reform: A New Policy. The Nineteenth Century 77, January to June, 61. 28 Duncan, R. op. cit, p. 153. 29 Alliance News, November 1914, p. 592. 30 The Police Review and Parade Gossip, 12 March, p. 101; 19 March, p. 134; 23 April, p. 194; and 11 June, p. 287, 1915. 31 Birmingham Post, 26 March 1915. 32 The Times, 2 December 1914. 33 Carter, H. op. cit, p. 41. 34 Carter, H. op. cit, p. 49. 35 House of Commons debates 29 April 1915, vol 71 c 875. 36 House of Commons debates 29 April 1915, vol 71 cc 864–896. 37 Riddell, G. A. R. B. (1933) Lord Riddell’s War Diary 1914–1918. London: ­Nicholson and Watson. 38 Greenaway, J. op. cit, p. 4. 39 Duncan, R. op. cit, p. 84. 40 Duncan, R. op. cit, pp. 85–90. 41 Lloyd George Papers C/3/16/25, Churchill to Lloyd George 7 April 1915. 42 House of Commons Debates 10 May 1915, vol 71 c 1372. 43 Waites, B. (1987) A Class Society at War: England 1914–1918. Leamington Spa: Berg Publishing, p. 163. 44 Carter, H. op. cit, p. x. 45 Parliamentary Papers 1901 [Cd 659], 16–17. 46 Wilson, G. B. (1940) op. cit. 47 Duncan, R. (2013) op. cit. Much of Lloyd George’s speech is reproduced in The Times, 1 March 1915. 48 Drinking in the Shipbuilding Trades CAB 37/127/23. 49 Strachan, H. (2001) The First World War. Volume 1: To Arms. Oxford: Oxford University Press, pp. 868–869. Carter, H. op. cit. Appendix III pp. 285–288. 50 House of Commons, 29 April 1915, vol 71 c. 893. 51 The King’s Example, The Times, 7 April 1915. The King’s Lead Manchester Guardian 15 April 1915. 52 Sale of alcoholic liquors House of Commons, House of Commons Debates 20 April 1915, vol 71 cc224–244. This debate was published “Parliament and the King’s Pledge” in the Manchester Guardian on 21 April 1915. 53 The Times, 14 May 1915. 54 The Daily Mail, 21 May 1915. 55 “I saw a statement the other day that the operations of our army were being crippled by our failure to provide the necessary ammunition. There is not a word of truth in that statement.” Cassar, G. (1994). Asquith as War Leader. ­London: Hutchinson, p. 88. 56 Strachan, H. op. cit. See the section on Shell Shortage, pp. 993–1005.

Policing alcohol  83 57 The Times, 3 April 1915. 58 Carter, H. op. cit. Appendix IV, pp. 289–294. 59 On Monday the “no treating” rule came into force. The Spectator, 16 October 1915, p. 3. Drink and economy The Spectator, 6 November 1915, p. 18. “The Trade’s” opportunity The Spectator, 18 December 1915, p. 6. 60 Glasgow Herald, Tuesday 10 August 1915, p. 6. 61 Duncan, R. op. cit. p. 103. 62 The Scotsman, 16 August 1915, p. 2. 63 The Times, 28 August 1915, p. 8. 64 The Times, 31 August 1915, p. 3. 65 Central Control Board, Women’s Advisory Committee. TNA HO 185/258. 66 Greenaway, J. op. cit. p. 98. 67 Police Review and Parade Gossip, 1 October 1915, p. 472. 68 Duncan, R. op. cit, p. 221. 69 Police Review and Parade Gossip, 1 October 1915: Necessity of Having a Standard Time, p. 472. 70 Defence of the Realm (Liquor Control) Regulations, 1915. Second Report of the Central Control Board (Liquor Traffic) appointed under the Defence of the Realm (Amendment) (No. 3) Act, 1915. [Cd. 8243] Dated 1 May 1916. TNA HO 185/273, p. 29. 71 Defence of the Realm (Liquor Control) Regulations, 1915. First Report of the Central Control Board (Liquor Traffic) appointed under the Defence of the Realm (Amendment) (No. 3) Act, 1915. Dated 12 October 1915. TNA HO 185/273. 72 Defence of the Realm (Liquor Control) Regulations, 1915. First Report of the Central Control Board (Liquor Traffic) op. cit, p. 5. 73 Defence of the Realm (Liquor Control) Regulations, 1915. Second Report of the Central Control Board (Liquor Traffic) op. cit, p. 22. 74 The Times, What the Central Control Board has done. Monday 8 May 1916. 75 Police Review and Parade Gossip, 11 February 1916, p. 61. 76 Neville, S. (1958) Seventy Rolling Years. London: Faber and Faber. 77 Carter, H. op. cit. maps facing, p. 134. 78 Brewers’ Gazette, 13 April 1916. 79 Police Review and Parade Gossip, March 30 1917, p. 104. 80 The Scotsman, 20 April 1916. Police Review and Parade Gossip, 18 May 1917, p. 157. 81 Police Review and Parade Gossip, 11 February 1916, p. 64. 82 Police Review and Parade Gossip, 16 June 1916, p. 291. 83 Police Review and Parade Gossip, 18 May 1917, p. 157. 84 Ibid. 85 Police Review and Parade Gossip, 12 October 1917, p. 325. 86 Police Review and Parade Gossip, 18 May 1917, p. 158. 87 Ibid., p. 158. 88 Ibid. 89 The Morning Post, 14 March 1916, p. 3. 90 Greenaway, J. op. cit, p. 110. 91 Harris, J. (1982) ‘Businessmen in British Food Control 1916–1919’. In Burk, K. (ed.), War and the State: The Transformation of British government 1914–1919. London: George Allen and Unwin. 92 Duncan, R. op. cit, p. 199. 93 Manchester Guardian, 16 February 1918. 94 The Times, 4 December 1918, p. 3. 95 Jennings, P. (2012) op. cit, p. 83.

5 The rise of women?

This chapter is as much about the history of the police as an o ­ rganisation as it is about their work. The Police Review shows the ways in which r­ eaders of the journal saw the introduction of women into their traditionally male ­preserve of policing. All publications, in order to continue to attract ­readers, must reflect their views and also encourage them to form certain opinions through the articles they produce. The discourse of gender-­specific roles ­allows us to see the strategies and tactics used by women in their attempts to enter the police force in order to be accepted, which met with much approval from the police for some of their work. However, this chapter also shows the strategies and tactics used by the police and government to subordinate and segregate women so that they stayed within strict limits of society’s ­expectations of women’s roles - in the home or in back-room jobs and/or with women and children, the latter involving the supervision of female morals. This chapter shows these tactics and strategies used to maintain the women who wished to undertake police work into segregated or subordinated roles. In Liverpool, a woman police officer had been in post, said to be an ­experiment, since April 1914. She was acknowledged for her ability to take evidence from women and children in cases of offences against them… (where) it is commonly a matter of embarrassment and ­difficulty for the police… and it is expected that information will be more freely, and also more fully, given to a woman officer. In which she used her acknowledged female characteristics to obtain more and better information from women and children. But she would not be expected to do “rough police work” to be sworn in or to make arrests [1]. Magistrates in Manchester also saw a limited role for women in the ­police to help prevent young girls entering prostitution and to act as Matrons by guarding women under arrest in police stations, but they became very ­worried if their role involved arresting men [2]. Indeed, two women police officers were appointed in Manchester in autumn 1914 and undertook street work with the assistance of an experienced male officer, but they were not provided with uniform and their appointment was said to be “beset with

The rise of women?  85 practical difficulties” [3]. A deputation to the Home Secretary from the ­National Vigilance Association and the Criminal Law Amendment Committee in July 1914 sought the appointment of two women police officers in each police force who would be sworn in and would have the same role as male officers. But they were told this would need legislation and that not every force wanted to appoint women [4]. Blackburn decided not to appoint women in the police service, as there was said to be insufficient work for them [5]. Following the outbreak of war, the Chief Constable of Cardiff also strongly opposed the suggestion of appointing women patrols to deal with women and girls who frequented military camps. He explained to the Watch Committee that “paid women might get into difficulty regarding their powers and be more trouble than they were worth” [6]. The Police Review took up the cause of women police in June 1915. It  ­reproduced an article from The Birmingham Daily Mail [7] which praised the Birmingham Branch of the National Union of Women Workers (NUWW) for organising voluntary Women Patrols similar to other ­locations. The journal pointed out that they had the authority of the Home Office and the “support of the Police Authorities in the Metropolis, and of Chief ­Constables throughout the country,” including 71 branches in 17 County and Borough police areas, authorised by a “warrant” signed by the Commissioner or Chief Constable pledging police support [8]. The article appealed to its readers that the patrols in Birmingham were 40 ladies from the professional classes who “did admirable work” and received the appreciation of Lord Kitchener and various military district commanders as well as residents, so that they now had a right to be seen as “a useful agency of a permanent character” [9]. Their work had been devoted chiefly to keeping order amongst young girls who were likely to be excited by the presence of the military, and whose admiration for men in uniform might possibly pass the limit of discretion. [10] The widespread fear of naïve girls sinking into prostitution was said to need the services of mature, mainly middle-class women to help them lead a moral life and control their sexuality – part of the discourse of ­social ­purity. As Woollacott [11] argues, it was the fear of the changing nature of young women’s sexuality to blatant, aggressive harassment of soldiers, dubbed “khaki fever,” which led middle-class women patrols to claim a role in ­women’s policing [12,13]. Khaki fever challenged sexual chastity which was seen as a respectable part of middle class femininity. The threat led to a deputation to Chester’s Watch Committee by four women to set up women patrols in the city [14] and for women police officers to give evidence in court in Manchester [15]. If left unchecked, these naive girls’ activities were said to lead to the spread of venereal disease to the troops, endangering their health and ability to fight. Although khaki fever was only spoken about in the first

86  The rise of women? few months of the war, threats of the spread of venereal disease continued throughout the war with stringent measures to control prostitution during the last months. According to Levine [16], it was these anxieties that women police campaigners exploited to achieve their aims of recognition within the police service, implicit in these claims were that policemen did not have the qualities to undertake this role with women and young girls. Indeed, during the war, there was considerable recognition of the special role that the NUWW women police and patrols could play in assisting the police in keeping “young women who were not under adequate parental control from swelling the ranks of the prostitutes.” In this, Home Secretary Reginald McKenna and the Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police developed a scheme in which the patrols would carry cards, signed by the Commissioner, asking the police to give them every assistance. This suggestion was sent to all Chief Constables nationwide. Their work was portrayed as having “done most valuable work.” However, the limitation of women police was clear: there is no power under the existing law to “swear in” women, it is a­ pparent for physical reasons a woman cannot perform many of the duties which the law imposes on constables. [17] Physical strength and stamina was frequently provided as a reason to continue to segregate women into specific areas of work around policing. However, when the troops departed from Birmingham, the women patrol’s services were no longer seen to be needed, despite the National Women’s Temperance Association deputation on several occasions to B ­ irmingham’s Watch Committee to ask them to appoint two women police officers [18]. The Police Review appealed for their permanent use in Birmingham, ­carving out work with women and children as being appropriate, in support of the representations to the Watch Committee. However, the Committee turned down the request: “Women Police were not necessary at present” [19]. The article further appealed to its readers to counteract the resistance in ­Birmingham, claiming that certain types of police work were more suited to women than to men: This is particularly the case with young girls and children in parks and open spaces where they are away from parental control, and also in the vicinity of places of public entertainment. In such circumstances it is felt that sympathetic oversight by women would be both useful and helpful. [20] This showed the acceptance within the police of the middle-class women’s moral policing role with girls and children. Gender-specific roles for women, which distanced them from male policeman, were said to be essential in gaining police acceptance. The Chief Constable of Huddersfield was

The rise of women?  87 reported  to  have said that he was “surprised to find what a considerable amount of Police duty can be better done by women than men” [21], but his acceptance was provisional on gender-specific roles: “the Police Force of the future will consist of men and women, each engaged in the peculiar duties for which the accident of sex best qualifies them” [22]. The article from ­Huddersfield built its case with quotations from one of the leaders of the patrol ­movement who disputed that women did not have the p ­ hysical capacity to withstand being “on duty for two hours at a time in great ­c entres and outlying ­districts” [23], emphasising public acceptance of their role with no difficulty, ­objection or unpleasantness, which was important as achieving public acceptance was crucial in a­ cceptance by the police. The article ­promoted women’s characters as ­having a “watchful eye and sympathy” which could increase police ­k nowledge of those they worked with, making women ­entirely suited to this role in policing. However, women were said to recognise that they needed training, promoting police work as needing specialist knowledge and skills, and that given this they could perform the role of permanent women police in “certain kinds of duties,” giving examples of America and Germany where they were employed, building their case by examples of Liverpool, Huddersfield, Hull and Southampton where women police were employed who were said to be salaried Police Officers paid by the public authorities. Included in their role was general supervision of registry offices and in police courts as probation officers. In Blackpool, the title of policewoman was seen as interchangeable with Matron and Probation Officer, again distancing them from male policemen. Their role was To take charge of all female prisoners; attend the Police Court every day, see all female prisoners before Court and convey them to and from prison, inebriates’ homes, or workhouses, also to take charge of and ­convey all female children committed to reformatory or industrial ­ onstable schools. Only when the matron considers necessary does a C accompany her. They are also, when required to turn out with the ­ambulance carriages for the purposes of assisting at accidents or ­removals. One is responsible for the care of all lost children. They have obtained information in many cases leading to detection and conviction of offenders under the Criminal Law Amendment Act, 1880, The Vagrancy Act, 1898, and the Children Act, 1908. They take statements of witnesses and prepare proofs of evidence under the Acts above referred to.” [24] This quotation shows their gender-specific roles with women and children, particularly female children, along with knowledge of the law. The Chief Constable was said to be “quite satisfied that women will form an important branch of the Police Service in the immediate future” [25], postponing the

88  The rise of women? decision to appoint women while advocating that they should be sworn in; be paid, including a pension and have the same conditions of service as a Constable. However, segregation by a special school for training ­policewomen would be necessary. Indeed, such a school to train women police and patrols was opened in Bristol in September 1915 [26]; it was an agreement between two movements promoting women’s roles in policing: (1) the Women’s Police Service (the WPS, headed by Margaret Damer Dawson) and (2) the NUWW women patrols: under the auspices of Mrs. Carden, hon. Secretary of the Central Committee of the National Union of Women Workers in London, and of Miss Damer Dawson, Chief of the Women Police Service. The course of training will cover a period of from one to two months, and will include instruction in civil and criminal law, study of the special Acts relating to women and children, procedure and rules of evidence in Police Courts, instruction in collecting evidence and accurate reporting, drill, first aid, and general Police duties. [27] By June 1918, 2,000 women had been trained, most voluntarily, although the Ministry of Munitions contributed later in the war when recruiting large numbers of women to supervise female employees in the munitions f­ actories [28,29]. But the Chief Constable of Bristol dissociated himself from the school: There was in Bristol an institution called “The Bristol Training School for Women Patrols and Police,” but he wished to say he had no ­connection with that whatever, and it had no connection with their ­Police establishment. [30] The Home Office in December 1917 acknowledged that the Chief Constable of Bristol employed more women than any other force, including a women superintendent, and added that they did not need any further help at present [31]. The evident rejection of the school by the Chief Constable included not allowing any of the trainees to gain practical experience on the streets of Bristol; they had to obtain this in London [32]. As the WPS campaigned to be seen as a separate unit within the police service and to reform them to allow women to be sworn in and to have the powers of arrest, Bristol’s Chief Constable was likely responding to their leader Damer Dawson’s comments that the WPS should not follow precedents set by the male force and should undertake work for which the male force was not suited [33], a feminist ­perspective tending to isolate the school and its trainees from mainstream policing at local level. By June 1918, the Bristol School was losing support as a rift had occurred between the WPS and the NUWW; the Chairman of

The rise of women?  89 the Women’s Patrol committee said they no longer sent women patrols there but sent them to the London School instead. Other schools to train women police and patrols had been established around Britain. By October 1918, the penultimate month of the war, the Bristol school continued to claim its isolationist and national standing by saying they had trained policewomen and patrols for locations throughout the country since the start of the war, and now incorporated schools in Liverpool and Glasgow in a Federated Training School for Policewomen and Patrols. They asked to be involved in discussions on conditions of service for the more permanent employment of policewomen and women patrols, which they understood would soon be occurring [34]. By June 1916, despite the Bristol school and its intention to train women to work throughout Britain, little development had taken place in some large ­cities. The Chief Constable of Manchester was forced to deny accusations that male police officers searched female prisoners, saying they employed “female searchers” for this role and that Matrons were always on duty at the Central Police Station for this [35]. That some women who aspired to enter the police service were seen as militants and potentially disruptive did not help their case, as the Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police Sir Edward Henry and the Home Secretary Reginald McKenna found with the ­deputation of women in 1914 campaigning for opportunities for policewomen [36]. The fear of m ­ ilitant women was widespread and made a lasting impact on the police and government [37]. Aware of this, the NUWW tried to dissociate themselves from militant action by not recruiting women with a militant background, in an attempt to avoid any distrust by male police officers [38]. In support of the discourse of employing women police with gender-­ specific roles in Birmingham, on 25 June 1915 The Police Review asked its readers for other examples of where they were successfully employed and their roles. However, the following week, it was only able to confirm ­voluntary Women Patrols in Liverpool and Huddersfield. Chief Constables were only “seriously considering the desirability of adding Policewomen to their Forces” [39]. Where women had been employed, they were a Matron in Blackpool since 1912 and a Probation Officer in Blackpool, Manchester and Bolton, none given Policewomen titles or status and having much reduced roles with the police. The NUWW voluntary Women Patrols were said to be still in their “experimental stage”; indeed, Birmingham Watch Committee was reported to have made enquires of where policewomen were currently employed: most of those places stated their experience of the employment of women in that capacity had not been long enough to enable them to report with any degree of certainty as to the desirability of engaging women, and some of them expressed doubt as to the advisability of doing so. [40]

90  The rise of women? Birmingham reported employing women in police administration work; they were currently employed in every capacity except patrolling the streets. The Watch Committee deferred further discussion until more information had been received. However, women were employed in the police later in the war and received praise from the Birmingham Watch Committee in July 1918. The Police Review reported their success: You will be glad to know that the experiences of the (Birmingham) Watch Committee along these lines has been very satisfactory, as you may probably remember there was considerable opposition to give women a trial, but the result has exceeded everyone’s expectations. The amount of work done amongst women on the streets has been ­invaluable, so much so that we have recently opened a home in which to place those whom the Women Police have been able to persuade to make a new start in life – that in itself, seems to me a very great compliment to their ability in this direction. [41] But other locations refused to entertain women police in 1915. Rather than deferring the decision, outright resistance to Women Patrols came from Swansea, where a member of the Watch Committee refused a letter from the NUWW asking the Chief Constable to sign the Women Patrol’s cards: MR. POWLESLAND: We have consistently opposed it, and I am still going to do so. If there is any need of closer supervision, and I am going to suggest there is, then I say it is a man’s duty, not a women’s. I move that we do not authorise the Chief Constable to sign the cards. [42] The resolution was carried by the Watch Committee, although they ­ cknowledged that Swansea docks were “a hotbed of immorality, and much a worse than ever before … (with) girls to be seen from 13 years of age with drunken sailors day and night and on board ships” [43,44]. Instead, the Watch Committee agreed to write to the local military ­authorities ­asking them to extend their supervision of the docks to prevent women and girls from entering [45]. The implication of not accepting the role of women ­patrols in the docks was that the type of work involved was seen as unfit for middle class female sensibilities. The Chief Constable of Manchester also refused to recognise women patrols throughout the war, while Reading’s Chief Constable recognised them but added a rider when signing their cards that he took no responsibility for their work [46]. However, women police patrols had paraded the streets of London since at least January 1915 in attempts to control the moral scandal and fear of sexual impropriety:

The rise of women?  91 The experiences of a Patrol, Miss Talbot, … said that one of the things that had forced themselves upon her during that period was that this was work which women only could do. They had had the most helpful tribute to the work from Sir Edward Henry,… one of the things that he had made clear was that the work was supplementary and aided the work of the Police themselves. The mere presence of a Woman Patrol walking up and down created a healthier atmosphere in the streets… the Women Patrols always went in couples, and without speaking or taking any active part they undoubtedly helped to keep undesirable things from happening by walking up and down ill-frequented and ­ill-lighted streets. [47] But their limited role by not being allowed to speak to anyone and merely walking up and down the streets shows their subordinated role to the ­policemen. However, Sir Edward Henry was able to claim their success in minimising the spread of venereal disease when the government was ­challenged by the Dominions in 1918 (see Chapter 9). Bristol, in May 1916, saw the use of women police officers as detectives in visiting the homes to enquire into the home conditions following ­juvenile crime, again showing the gender-specific roles with children and in the homes: They had added to their Police establishment three women who acted as inquiry officers in the detective department, and they visited the homes of these children, and his committee was quite satisfied with the results. He was dead against women patrolling in uniform, but as inquiry agents to help the Police among juveniles they were of great service. [48] This acknowledged women’s roles in providing detailed information about the children so that both they and their homes became better known to the police, but in a subordinate role to the police. As this role did not require a police uniform and was within the home, it did not encounter resistance from policemen. July 1916 saw the passage of legislation for the police in the Police, ­Factories &c. (Miscellaneous Provisions) Bill [49]; The Police Review ­published the entire House of Commons debate. Three exchanges are noted: (1) Walter Perkins, Conservative for the New Forest moved that women police, in ­addition to their pay, should receive pensions and compensation similar to policemen, with the caveat that they were not the same as policemen, citing physical strength as the difference: it should not be imagined by those who have not studied the subject that Women Police are not being appointed to take the place of men: in other

92  The rise of women? words, they are not appointed to perform duties where great physical strength is required – to arrest drunkards, or stop motor cars, or anything which would require the exertion of physical strength. [50] (2) Resistance to the appointment of women police with the same roles as policemen also came from Jonathan Samuel, Liberal Member of Parliament for Stockton-on-Tees, emphasising their novelty and that they performed only certain police roles, usually not in uniform: None can render more useful service than those Women Police in c­ ertain capacities. They cannot, of course, perform all the duties of the Police Constable, or most of the duties of the Police Constable, which need physical force, and a great deal of it is necessary. They can, however, perform useful functions in connection with the supervision of women and children, and some local authorities have tentatively employed them for that purpose. For a long time the authorities have employed women for several purposes without their being in uniform and without their having to perform duties on the streets. [51] These ways of segregating women into limited areas of work, which were not seen to need uniform denoted their employment as policewomen, included the temporary nature of their employment. But resistance came when the same conditions of service were considered, such as granting the muchprized police pension: I am rather afraid that if the proposal was made that every woman e­ mployed in the Police Force … should be qualified for pension the same as a man, the local authorities … would be greatly prejudiced against the employment of women in the Police Force. [52] (3) This position was supported by Joseph King, Liberal Member of ­Parliament for North Somerset. The Liberals said they welcomed the ­employment of women police, but it should be slowly implemented so as not to “frighten the local authorities” [53]. The Walter Perkins Commons Amendment that women police should receive pensions and compensation was defeated. However, by late 1916, with the publication of the Report of the Royal Commission on Venereal Disease, the role of women police in helping to control soliciting was recognised at government level. A conference on ­venereal disease held by the War Office agreed that “women by their moral influence cleared the parks of London in a way which men could not do” and

The rise of women?  93 that their work was to be encouraged [54]. Home Secretary Herbert Samuel also praised their work and showed his support at a national conference in Manchester in October 1916, promoting women police as more ­efficient at stopping the amateur girls, who were portrayed as between 15 and 18 years of age [55], from soliciting on the streets and the consequent spread of ­venereal disease, than were policemen who arrested the girls; when they were later found not guilty of an offence, this brought the police into disrepute, being accused of making gross errors of judgement [56]. By 1916, roles of surveillance of women and children, particularly in the homes, had been marked out for women police, with encouragement by the Home Office to the Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police to employ them in larger numbers in London [57]. Resistance to integration with the male police force was becoming more clearly identified. They were demarcated by not wearing the same uniform, in conditions of service by not being sworn in and without the powers of arrest, with no right to a pension or compensation and not being allowed to undertake much outdoor work such as patrolling the streets. They were also often seen as temporary workers. Women police were also often in backroom jobs, such as administration. Women patrols were mainly paid by voluntary organisations and not integrated into the police service, although subordinated by needing the Chief Constable’s authorisation. A few locations differed. December 1916 saw the first woman police ­officer sworn in in Grantham, Lincolnshire, but she was not welcomed ­unconditionally. Mrs Edith Smith was reported to have told a meeting of the NUWW that although Sheffield also proposed to set up a women’s ­police force, there was resistance by some Chief Constables to the appointment of women police because “it was feared that they might give away police secrets” [58], showing women could also be excluded from the daily male conversations about police work [59]. This sees women police being treated similarly to their own wives who, although recognised as supporting the policeman and as part of the system of policing, were nonetheless kept apart from the knowledge and details of police work where any association with criminals was concerned [60]. Rivalry was reported in May 1917, when her pay was 8 shillings more per week than a senior sergeant of 35 years’ ­experience [61], as she could not have the knowledge of someone with this length of experience. Striving for recognition within the police service put women in a difficult position. As Young [62] shows, the male macho behaviour of policemen and their sense of close personal identity with each other would have e­ ncouraged women who wished to be part of the force to adopt their ideals, rather than to use softer more feminine strategies to help women whose morals they sought to protect. Their isolation from both policemen and the women they sought to help using surveillance and, where they thought necessary, r­ eporting to a male officer to make an arrest, has been said to result in resentment to their roles by both the police and the women they targeted [63].

94  The rise of women? Early 1917 showed a change in fortunes for women police, with government recognition of the need for large numbers in the munitions factories to supervise the women workers in 8 locations: Several hundred Policewomen for his Majesty’s factories are needed by the Ministry of Munitions, in order to properly protect the women workers and to prevent the carelessness which leads to explosions and decreased output… At the time of writing, 89 women are in training, four of whom have come from the Bristol School. [64] Women police had become necessary in the promotion of national efficiency and so were more easily able to promote their message to be recognised as an official part of the police service [65]. Women police and patrols were ­employed in Carlisle, according to the Chief Constable’s Annual report, to increase the supervision of the large numbers of girls from around the ­country staying in hostels; their role also involved patrolling the streets: It has been found necessary to lodge a large number of girl operatives at hostels in various parts of the city, and it was desirable that some supervision,… should be exercised over them during the time they were here.… Arrangements were accordingly made for the Policewomen to be sworn in for the County of Cumberland and the City of Carlisle, and for some time past a certain number have been employed on patrol work every Saturday afternoon and evening in the main streets, railway station, etc. It is hoped that at an early date at least a dozen will be ­permanently quartered in the city, and work in connection with the regular force. [66] But they would be seen “in connection with” and therefore separate from the “regular force.” The Chief Constable defined their role as domiciliary visiting, inspecting women’s lodging houses and patrolling public places to prevent immorality. Surveillance of women, girls and children was to prevent indecency, as women were seen as better able to communicate with girls and children: “a woman is most useful in eliciting the facts and separating truth from falsehood” [67], which provided better knowledge of the women, girls and children they worked with. By March 1917, women police had gained influential support for ­equality from Thomas Ferens, Liberal Member of Parliament for Hull East and a supporter of women’s rights. In a Commons debate on women police in Carlisle, he said they had full employment with the same duties as police constables, including the power of arrest and managing crowds with no compromise to their physical strength. He asked the Home Secretary if he was aware that

The rise of women?  95 The Women’s Police Service has already trained a considerable ­number of Policewomen, who are working a full eight hours’ day in provincial towns, paid by the rates; that they have been exercising the power of ­arrest; and that they work in rough and crowded districts, managing their own cases with no disability of physical strength; if he is aware that the Ministry of Munitions is employing a force of about 250 ­Policewomen, who live in barracks under their own officers and are sworn in as C ­ onstables in Dumfriesshire and Cumberland, use the full powers of Constables, and deal with large crowds of men and women operatives, and that excellent reports have been received of their ­efficiency and service. [68] However, Home Secretary Sir George Cave denied equality and any compromise to physical strength and also that they had the full powers of a Constable or that they dealt with large crowds of men and women. He ­acknowledged that the Metropolitan Police employed two women, paid at the starting rate for a Constable, and 58 members of the volunteer NUWW mainly on preventive work and others would be employed “from time to time,” emphasising their temporary employment. Indeed, this was also the case in Middlesbrough where 36 women volunteers were sworn in as Special Constables, mainly replacing the regular police who had been recruited into the army (see also Chapter 5), to protect the morals of young girls walking the streets at night with a lack of parental control [69]. The temporary nature of women’s work in the police was also seen in Folkestone, where they were said to be unable, after a year, to control the city’s immorality in brothel-keeping and solicitation but were not dismissed [70]. Levine [71] also shows that from as early as 1890 the police were uneasy about the employment of women, although they carried out the restricted duties of matrons, and so endorsed their employment only on a temporary basis. Many locations during 1917 used women to carry out gender-specific roles. Leeds used women patrols to promote a higher standard of morals amongst young girls; the Chief Constable reported in June 1917 that only 6% of arrests during the previous year had been girls, which he attributed to the work of the patrols [72]. Wolverhampton used part-time Women’s Volunteer Reserves to patrol the streets in pairs, visit cinemas to protect the welfare of children and work with women and children [73]. In Scotland, the Scottish Union of Women Workers in 1914 established the Scottish women patrols to tour the streets and parks and near the army camps, attempting to prevent immorality and called for subscriptions to fund this work [74,75]. Promotion by The Police Review of further opportunities to recruit women police with full powers of arrest was seen during House of Commons debates on the Criminal Law Amendment Act in May 1917. Such was the national alarm at the spread of venereal disease that Clause 3 of the Bill, to detain girls under 18 for up to 3 years in a Reformatory if found guilty

96  The rise of women? of wandering the streets and behaving in a riotous or indecent ­manner or ­loitering or soliciting for prostitution, was hotly debated nationally. The journal published an article from The Weekly Review showing concern that a male policeman could arrest a girl who could subsequently be tried but with no respectable woman present throughout the process. The journal argued: Many of these objections could, we think, be met by the attachment of Women Police to every Force, but to make their service effective they should be given the powers of arrest bestowed on male Constables. [76] Powers of arrest given to women police was highly contentious, but The Police Review argued that in these circumstances an experienced woman would be better suited to this role than a young constable, as a mistake would reflect badly on the police and likely reach the press. To illustrate the point, it published a case of two innocent women arrested at Hounslow District Railway Station after a night out and charged with immorality, with no evidence. They were taken to Holloway Prison, medically examined and later discharged. This was published in The Weekly Dispatch as a police blunder [77]. As the war progressed, women recruited as Special Constables to replace policemen enlisted by the army were increasingly seen, but with gender-­ specific roles. However, this caused the Commissioner of the M ­ etropolitan Police to deny that they had a role in the Metropolitan area under the ­Special Constables Act 1914, as Special Constables could claim pensions and allowances, including payments for injuries sustained while on duty; women could only have such a role if approved by the Secretary of State: When the employment of women patrols in the Metropolitan ­Police District was first discussed, it was – as the Secretary of State is aware – ­decided that it was neither necessary or desirable to give them the ­powers of a Constable, and the women patrols now employed have no such powers, but are accompanied when patrolling by a Constable who takes executive action should necessity arise; experience has shown the wisdom of this decision, and I am not prepared to recommend that women patrols in the Metropolitan Police District should be invested with the powers of a Constable. [78] His letter to the Secretary of State at the Home Office also claimed this ­ pplied to private firms who enrolled special constables. However, a a ­deputation in July 1918 to the Home Secretary from the Dominions f­ urther emphasised the need to employ women constables. It stressed the necessity of checking immorality and the spread of disease on the London streets

The rise of women?  97 which was affecting their troops. The deputation proposed an official body of women police under the control of the Home Office acting through the Commissioner of Police to deal with the issue and received much press coverage; The Police Review reported the outcome as “Sir George Cave e­ xpressed his sympathy with the proposal, and promised to consider whether it could be carried out” [79,80]. But they were told this would need legislation; there were also objections to women arresting violent or dangerous criminals. The Secretary of State showed that the employment of Special Constables was to control riot and tumult, which in wartime could be the result of ­enemy ­action. The role of Special Constable was therefore not appropriate for women [81]. But the press continued to call the London streets a disgrace and for women to play their part in clearing “this social canker.” The Daily Express, The Times and The Daily Mail all disagreed with the Secretary of State giving vitriolic support for women police to arrest and prosecute the hoards of women pestering and infecting the overseas troops on the London streets; after all, they said, these troops had travelled half way around the world to give their services freely and willingly but had not expected to be greeted with this social scandal [82]. But, in some towns, women police were seen as innovative and welcomed. In Birkenhead in March 1917, The Police Review praised the Chief ­Constable for appointing a sergeant and 10 constables “to form a Force of Women Police.” They were paid on the scale of a constable; however, the journal described their equipment as “only leggings and mackintosh,” their role being mainly with women and children, which could involve investigating complaints against soldiers’ and sailors’ wives in receipt of State allowances and assisting the police in certain areas that did not involve women and children, emphasising their subordinate role as assistants when not working with women and children [83].1 But they were said by their local paper to be a “new branch of the Force.” The town was portrayed in their local paper as very proud of the decision by the Chief Constable, supported by the Watch Committee, to employ women police: The advisability of having women police has been recognised in ­ irkenhead for a considerable time, and steps have now been taken B which go to show that this borough is once more “to the fore.” Showing how having women police was a positive and novel move by the town demonstrated its progressive nature. The age and physical stature of the women was given as well as their marital status – they should be ­ single – they needed to pass a medical examination and have a “fair education.” When the Force was inspected in March, the women police were paraded for inspection which was highlighted by the local paper reporting that His Majesty’s Chief Inspector of Constabulary Sir Leonard Dunning spoke at length with the women and was “very pleased” with them and their ­appearance. Between the beginning of January and the end of March 1917,

98  The rise of women? the newspaper published 5 articles on their women police in its more prominent pages, making them highly visible to local residents and emphasising their good work [84]. As the war entered its third year, the continual coverage of so many policemen being called up2 enabled a more insistent campaign to employ women police determined to overcome the resistance of the male police force and their employers. After all, women were being widely employed in many industries often replacing a male workforce. An article by Gladys Wiles claiming separate roles tactfully recognised that women did not aim to compete with but to compliment male policemen: Men are selected for the Police on account of their physical strength …. But Policemen themselves will be the first to admit that moral qualities such as tact, intuition and sympathy are of equal value. With these qualities women are well equipped. [85] She detailed their training and emphasised examples of their work in gender-­specific areas, with appeals that the public should accept women ­police as necessary and useful, as their female qualities were similar to their own wives and daughters. The appeal was to recognise the best qualities of a woman as someone who was known and welcomed by most men. This call received powerful support from Sir Leonard Dunning, Inspector of ­Constabulary for England and Wales, in his annual report for 1917, in which he focused on juvenile crime and increasing immorality which he said was due to lack of parental control, particularly while the husband was away fighting. He framed women police as foster parents: the Policewoman of the future is, then, to play the part of foster mother, and we would all agree that though there is no real substitute for a good mother and a good home, a foster mother is a very great deal better than nothing, and may be a great improvement on many a home and mother. [86] This gave women police a unique, important and gender-specific role within the police as a guardian of the nation’s morals [87], emphasising that they also needed and would receive training in police work, ensuring the work was raised to a level that could not be undertaken without training. Lady Nott-Bower, wife of the Commissioner of the City of London Police, spoke at the Chief Constables’ Association conference on 23 May 1918. She emphasised the gender-specific roles of women police to complement the male police role. She appealed to the conference that women’s roles were with children, particularly if brought before a court to give evidence in ­assault cases – they would give evidence more truthfully to a woman – or of

The rise of women?  99 women attempting to procure an abortion, which could require entering her bedroom and examining her clothing if concealment was suspected. Other roles were to supervise common lodging houses in the provinces, thought to promote immoral behaviour and possibly function as brothels; morality needed to be protected by only allowing the girls in residence to be in the bedrooms [88]. Indeed, she said these roles of inspecting homes and houses had been undertaken in some areas since 1915 [89]. She appealed to the ­police and the judiciary that women could replace the male policeman, even if only temporarily until the end of the war: Many a woman would be glad to take a Policeman’s place while he was on the battlefield, and be equally glad to give it up when he came back. [90] She promoted the employment of women police as “an experiment,” e­ ndorsing its temporary nature, provided, if they were judged successful, they should be given full status, including the powers of arrest. The Chief Constables and Aldermen at the Conference agreed with the employment in gender-specific roles, but women should not be sworn in and should not wear the same uniform, and they should also be segregated into a special division with a woman in charge, but most of all their work should be with women and children. This suggestion echoed the aims of the WPS, although they had campaigned for full police powers [91]. The Chief Constable of Wolverhampton took up the cause, with a ­full-page article in July 1918; he said he had 26 women police ­under his control [92]. He drew the distinction between Matrons, who had been e­ mployed by the police for years to take charge of female prisoners, and women police who ­ ualities needed as “prudence, had much wider duties. He advocated the q tact, and discretion in dealing with cases and ­enquiries that arise”; there was no room for sentiment, just the facts were needed. He i­dentified appropriate gender-specific duties for women police: inspecting lodging houses, which were said to house prostitutes, to ­safeguard any ­children present; searching and surveillance of female prisoners and g­ aining evidence from ­ atrolling the streets children to prepare them for a court appearance; and p and surveillance of music halls and cinemas to protect children and suppress prostitution. However, he denied their being sworn in, so they would not have powers of arrest and should only observe and report suspicious people to a plain clothes officer who would make the arrest, if appropriate. Common lodging houses had to be registered with the police, which ­ olice, to ­prevent allowed surveillance and was a suitable job for women p child neglect and prosecute vagrants who used children for ­begging, and to ensure the employment of children within the legal age and number of hours employed. His summary was to promote gender-­specific roles for women police:

100  The rise of women? there are many duties originally done by man power that Women Police are fully capable of managing in a thoroughly and business-like way, viz., duties consistent with their own sex. [93] This was followed in August 1918 by a handbook for women police w ­ ritten by the Chief Constable of Wolverhampton [94]. October 1918 saw the Home Secretary acknowledge that more women should be employed in the p ­ olice service, responsible directly to the Chief Constable but not sworn in or with the powers of arrest beyond that of the ordinary citizen; these powers ­remained the province of policemen [95]. However, with the end of the war in November 1918, the temporary ­nature of women’s employment in police roles was evident as hundreds of policewomen were made redundant when the munitions factories closed [96]. The Police Review appealed for their employment elsewhere in the service, ­showing that previously they had been employed in 27 towns [97]. However, the gender-specific roles that had largely been agreed as suitable for women were felt by the Home Office to be too narrow to likely appeal to the ratepayers to fund: A very reasonable summary of what Police women can do with advantage but it shows what a very narrow field of action they have. Police authorities with an ever increasing expenditure to meet may well doubt whether the ratepayers can afford the luxury of specially appointed functionaries for the purposes mentioned within – to compare them with the multifarious duties discharged by the ordinary P.C. is preposterous. [98] It would be more than 10 years and a Royal Commission later before women finally gained entry to the police force, although some were employed in ­specialist roles with women and children throughout Britain in the meantime. In conclusion, as Young [99] says, street visible crime control was seen as a male preserve where women were inconsistent and invoked feelings of ­feminine susceptibility, while Bethan Loftus [100] says police culture showed enduring characteristics. Both the male preserve of policing and its ­enduring characteristics are seen here during the war in many locations throughout Britain. The struggles the women who wished to undertake police work had to endure and the compromises they had to make to be accepted are detailed in this chapter. The proliferation of women’s organisations involved in police and patrol work during the First World War was said to confuse the public [101]. Some organisations wished for a separate role for women police within the service. They mainly developed from feminist ideals, while others were content to be associated with and receive approval from a police force at local level and

The rise of women?  101 were managed at arms’ length by them; but very few individuals were fully integrated during the war years. Mainly middle-class women wanted and actively campaigned to undertake police work during this time, often with the aim of being recognised and their work continuing after the war. Many women police and patrols dissociated themselves from suffragette ­action, as it caused huge backlashes from many men and male organisations, ­including the police and their employers [102]. According to Bland, women police or patrols were in a dilemma about their role and craved acceptance [103]. But this is somewhat harsh, as different local circumstances, including the views of the Chief Constable and their Watch Committee, determined to a large extent the role they could undertake and the tactics they should best employ in order to be accepted. The women police and patrols had to ­undertake subordinate, gender-specific roles to be accepted by the police and their ­employers at local level. That women were given gender-specific roles as moral guardians of women, girls and children is said by Woollacott [104] to be a nineteenth century hegemonic concept of the women’s role. Women’s acceptance at local and national level in the police was carefully guarded by those in senior positions and was based on discourses of the role of women being in the private domain of the home and with women and children, which dominated society from top to bottom. In this role, women promoted their skills as better able to communicate with women and children to gain increased knowledge of use to the police; in this, they were often recognised by the police. The ways in which policemen segregated women at local level is shown in this chapter – it involved women wearing different uniforms; being used for indoor office work; being promised they would be considered as full members of the police which ensured delayed gratification; and being seen as temporary employees at a time of national emergency. However, the main difference with both voluntary and paid policewomen was that their work was defined in gender-specific terms, similar to a wife – they worked on their own with women and children and only worked outside this, if in a ­subordinate role, giving assistance to a policeman or providing him with further information. Although training was established, the powers of ­arrest were rarely granted to women at this time, and few were sworn into the service. The enduring nature of these ways of segregating women from the main police force is seen throughout the First World War. The ­temporary nature of their employment was also emphasised by the many redundancies at the end of the war. The fate of women attempting to gain acceptance into the police can be seen alongside the continual release of large numbers of policemen into the army (see Chapters 8 and 11). Women and men, used as voluntary Special Constables, were needed to replace them, but were never fully part of them. Women’s physical strength was seen as a defining factor which separated them from the role of Special Constables. At a time when many women were employed in many other forms of work to sustain the home front, the

102  The rise of women? regular police fiercely protected their role as different from those who were not sworn in. The role of women with the police service is an example of the discourse of gender difference that permeated society from top to bottom.

Notes 1 Under the 1916 Police, Factories &c. (Miscellaneous Provisions) Act. 2 See chapters 8 and 11.

References 1 Manchester Guardian, Women and Police Work. 13 April 1914, p. 3. 2 Manchester Guardian, Women as Police. 24 May 1914, p. 13. 3 Manchester Guardian, Women Police. 26 December 1914, p. 3. 4 Manchester Guardian, Women Police Constables: Home Office Points Out ­Difficulties. 17 July 1914, p. 16. 5 Manchester Guardian, Women and Police Work. 13 April 1914, p. 3, op. cit. 6 The Police Review, Parade Gossip. 11 December 1914, p. 603. 7 The Birmingham Daily Mail, 15 June 1915. 8 The Police Review, 2 July 1915, p. 319. 9 The Police Review, Women Patrol Movement. 25 June 1915, p. 302. 10 The Police Review, ibid. 11 Levine, P. (1994) ‘Walking the streets in a way no decent woman should’. Women police in World War One. Journal of Modern History 66, (March) 34–78. 12 Woollacott, A. (1994) ‘Khaki Fever’ and its Control: Gender, Class, Age and Sexual Morality on the British Homefront in the First world War. Journal of Contemporary History 29, 325–347. 13 Joan Lock shows how the NUWW had as their main aim to influence and, if necessary, restrain the behaviour of women and girls who congregated near the camps; to safeguard “our girls from the results of the very natural excitement produced by the abnormal conditions now prevailing” (Lock, J. (1979) The ­B ritish Policewoman: Her Story. London: Robert Hale, p. 22). They signed a letter to The Times published on 13October 1914 announcing the setting up of the patrols and asking for donations. 14 Rock, A. (2014) The ‘khaki fever’ moral panic: Women’s patrols and the policing of cinemas in London, 1913–19. Early Popular Visual Culture. 57–72. 15 Manchester Guardian, Women Police for Chester? 17 December 1914, p. 12. 16 Manchester Guardian, Women Police Officers. 22 December 1914, p. 3. 17 TNA HO45/10802 307990 Measures for Dealing with Prostitutes, pp. 5–6. 18 The Police Review, Women Police Movement. 15 October 1915, p. 494. 19 The Police Review, op. cit. 25 June 1915, p. 302. 20 Ibid. 21 Ibid. 22 Ibid. 23 Ibid. 24 The Police Review, 9 July 1915, p. 335. 25 The Police Review, 2 June 1916, p. 256. 26 TNA MEPO 2/1608. Memorandum of Sir Edward Henry, 15 July 1914. 27 TNA MEP02 1608. Letter to the Criminal Law Committee from Sir Edward Henry, Metropolitan Police Commissioner, July 1914. 28 Levine, P. (1994) op. cit., p. 47. 29 The Police Review. 9 July 1915, op. cit.

The rise of women?  103 30 B24/7 Bristol’s War: Britain’s First Policewoman. 31 The Police Review. 15 October 1915, op. cit. 32 The Police Review. Women Police. Lady Nott-Bower’s Address to the Chief ­Constable’s Association, 14 June 1918, pp. 189–190. 33 Heidensohn, F. (1992) Women in Control? The Role of Women in Law E ­ nforcement. Oxford: Clarendon Press, p. 49. 34 The Police Review. Women Police. Lady Nott-Bower’s Address to the Chief ­Constable’s Association. 14 June 1918, pp. 189–190. 35 TNA HO45/10962A. Letter to Mr Pedder reporting on a meeting with two ­representatives from the Bristol Training School for Women Patrols and Police, 17 December 1917. 36 EMP 43, 1/95. Women’s Police Service: Report for 1918–1919, p. 6. 37 TNA HO45/10962A. Interview with Chairman of the Women’s Patrols Committee, NUWW, Mrs Creighton, Hon. Secretary Mrs Carden, 26 June 1918. 38 TNA HO45/10962A 11 October 1918. Letter from the Bristol School for Policewomen and Patrols signed by EH Smith, Chairman and Isabelle G.M. Salvesen, Joint Convenor of the Women’s Patrol Committee for Scotland to the Secretary of State for the Home Department, Sir George Cave, Conservative. 39 The Police Review. 2 July 1915, op. cit. 40 The Police Review, 15 October 1915, op. cit. 41 The Police Review, Women Police. 19 July 1918, p. 234. 42 The Police Review, 9 July 1915, op. cit. 43 South Wales Weekly Post, Swansea Docks Scandal. Saturday 3 July 1915, p. 6. 44 The Police Review, 9 July 1915, op. cit. 45 See World War One at Home, Imperial War Museum. 46 Lock, J. (1979) The British Policewoman: Her Story. London: Robert Hale, p. 32. 47 The Police Review, Sir Edward Henry and Women Patrols: Home Office Support for the New Movement. 25 June 1915, p. 297. 48 The Police Review, 19 May 1916, p. 232. 49 Police, Factories, &c. (Miscellaneous Provisions) Act, 1916 [6 & 7 Geo. 5] [Ch 31]. 50 The Police Review, 14 July 1916, pp. 318–319. 51 The Police Review, 14 July 1916, op. cit. 52 The Police Review, 14 July 1916, op. cit. 53 The Police Review, 14 July 1916, op. cit. 54 TNA HO45/10802 307990. Conference on venereal disease (Under Secretary of State’s [for War] Room), Wednesday, 2 August 1916. Hyde Park was said to be more or less an open-air brothel at night. Closing it was suggested, but this was considered to merely drive sexual practices elsewhere. 55 The Times, Venereal Disease. 23 October 1916. 56 Manchester Guardian, Venereal Disease Problem. 25 October 1916. 57 TNA HO45/10802 307990. Letter to Sir Edward Henry. 23 August 1916. 58 The Police Review, 1 December 1916, p. 478. 59 Franklin, C. A. (2008) Male Peer Support and the Police Culture: ­Understanding the Resistance and Opposition of Women in Policing. Women and Criminal ­Justice. 22 September, pp. 1–25. 60 Callan, H. (1984) ‘Introduction’. In Callan, H. & Ardener, S. (eds), The Incorporated Wife. London: Croom Helm, pp. 1–26. 61 The Police Review, Pay of Women Police: Grantham. 25 May 1917, p. 163. 62 Young, M. (1991) An Inside Job: Policing and Police Culture in Britain. Oxford: Oxford University Press. 63 Woodeson, A. (2006) The First Women Police: A Force for Equality or Infringement? Women’s History Review. 19 December, pp. 217–232. 64 The Police Review, Women Police Wanted. Posts in Munitions Factories to ­Prevent Carelessness. 2 February 1917, p. 40.

104  The rise of women? 65 Marlow, J. (ed.) (1998) The Virago Book of Women and The Great War. Diary of Miss G.M. West. Munitions: Police Work, pp. 247–249. 66 The Police Review, Women Police and Patrols. Their work in Carlisle. 23 Feb­ ruary 1917, p. 64. 67 The Police Review, Women Police and Patrols. Their work in Carlisle, op. cit. 68 The Police Review, Imperial Parliament. House of Commons, 20 March. 23 March 1917, p. 89. House of Commons Debates, 20 March 1917, vol 91, cc 1733–1735. 69 The Police Review, Women Patrols. Sworn in as Special Constables in Middles­ brough. 30 March 1917, p. 99. 70 The Police Review, Women Patrols and Juvenile Crime. 8 June 1917, p. 178. 71 The Police Review, Volunteer Women Police: Wolverhampton. 13 July 1917, p. 222. 72 Settle, L. (2016) Sex for Sale in Scotland: Prostitution in Edinburgh and Glasgow, 1900–1939. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press. 73 National Union of Women Workers of Great Britain and Ireland. Women Patrols Committee for Scotland (n.d.). University of Strathclyde Sutherland Collection. 74 The Police Review, 2 March 1917, p. 69. 75 Levine, P. (1994) op. cit. 76 The Police Review, The Criminal Law Amendment Bill. 4 May 1917, p. 141. 77 The Police Review Metro, Police Blunder. Painful ordeal of two women. 4 May 1917, p. 142. 78 TNA HO45/10962A. Sir Edward Henry to the Under Secretary of State for the Home Office, 23 March 1918. 79 Marlow, J. (ed.) (1998) op. cit. Disgrace of the London Streets. Daily Express, 26 September 1918; The Times, 24 September 1918; Christian Commonwealth, 16 October 1918; Daily Mail, 3 October 1918. 80 The Police Review, 23 August 1918, p. 269. 81 TNA HO45/10962A. Deputation to the Home Secretary, accompanied by Sir ­Edward Troup, the Commissioner of Police, Sir Ernley Blackwell, and Mr ­Simpson. 25 July 1918. 82 Marlow, J. (ed.) (1998) op. cit. Disgrace of the London Streets. Daily Express. 26 September 1918; The Times, 24 September 1918; Daily Mail, 3 October 1918, pp. 369–373. 83 The Police Review, Women Police. The Birkenhead Force. 30 March 1917, p. 103. 84 The Birkenhead News, Women Police: Birkenhead again to the Fore. 3 January 1917, p. 2; People are Saying. 13 January 1917, p. 2; Birkenhead Women Police. 3 March 1917, p. 2; Birkenhead Women Police. 7 March 1917, p. 2; Borough Police Inspection: Sir Leonard Dunning and the Women Police. 21 March 1917, p. 2. 85 The Police Review, Women Police. By Gladys Wiles. 28 December 1917, p. 413. 86 The Police Review, Women Service in the Police. 12 April 1918, p. 117. 87 See also: Grayzel, S. R. (2013) Women and the First World War. Abingdon: ­Routledge, p. 36. 88 The Police Review, Women Police. Lady Nott-Bower’s Address to the Chief ­Constables’ Association. 14 June 1918, pp. 189–190. 89 WPS Report, 1915, in Lock, J. (1979) op. cit., p. 28. 90 The Police Review, Women Police. Lady Nott-Bower’s Address to the Chief ­Constables’ Association. 14 June 1918, pp. 189–190. 91 Imperial War Museum (1916). Diary of Gabriella West, 2 November. 92 The Police Review, Instructions to Women Police. 23 August 1918, p. 269. 93 The Police Review, The Duties of Women Police. An Address by the Chief ­Constable of Wolverhampton. 5 July 1918, p. 214. 94 The Police Review, Instructions to Women Police. ibid. 95 TNA HO45/10962A 343889. Home Office, Whitehall, October 1918.

The rise of women?  105 96 Heidensohn, F. (n.d.) ibid. p. 49. 97 The Police Review, The Women’s Police Service. 13 December 1918, p. 397. 98 TNA HO45/10962A/343889. Criminal Law Amendment Committee Minutes. 21 November 1918. 99 Young, M. (1986) An Anthropology of the Police: Semantic Constructs of Social Order. Ph.D. thesis, University of Durham. 100 Loftus, B. (2009) Police occupational culture: classic themes, altered times. ­Policing and Society: An International Journal of Research and Policy 20 ­November 2009, pp. 1–20. 101 Lock, J. (1979) op. cit., p. 34. 102 Douglas, R. M. (1999) Feminist Freikorps: The British Voluntary Women Police, 1914–1940. Westport, Connecticut and London: Praeger, p. 26. 103 Bland, L. (1985) ‘In the Name of Protection: The Policing of Women in the First World War’. In Brophy, J. & Smart, C. Women-in-Law: Explorations in Law, Family and Sexuality. London: Routledge, Chapter 2, pp. 23–49. 104 Woollacott, A. (1998) From Moral to Professional Authority: Secularism, Social Work, and Middle-Class Women’s Self-Construction in World War I Britain. Journal of Women’s History 10, 2, 85–111.

6 Living costs

Most police wives, whether living in rural or urban areas, had the role of the incorporated wife [1]. The discourse of the incorporated wife shows her being portrayed as in the organisation but not part of it: it was her duty to represent her husband and police values both inside and outside the organisation; in so doing, she was a reflection of the public image of her husband’s occupation and status. The success in her role of supporting her husband was aligned with his chances of promotion, rather than giving her any recognition or reward in her own right – her suitability reflected on him. Conversely, non- ­conformity in the role affected her h ­ usband’s promotion prospects, as Young shows with one wife who refused to abandon her job as a teacher. The restrictions placed on policemen by their job and the discipline expected by the police organisation was said to turn both them and their wives inwards; for the wife, this was towards other police wives. Where police families lived close together, there was an inward-­looking self-­­containment amongst the wives. This reflected their husband’s role as a policeman in which he sought to control and order the society around him and needed social distance so as not to be seen as fallible. Although their role was unstated, police wives were well aware of their place and what was required of them, and particularly what they could and could not do to be acceptable [2]. The Police Review exploited the inward-­looking nature of police wives and its impact on the police family’s children by publishing a column for wives, to which many made contributions. “The Wives’ Column” was published before 1914, but more frequently in wartime as food shortages and other matters that affected the police family became more critical. The journal also occasionally published a column aimed at police children. “The Children’s Corner” ran competitions and prizes for the best entries. “The Wives’ Column” included items involving the police home, such as bringing up children, recipes and setting the standard for the policeman and his family to be an example in the community. However, rates of pay to be able to afford this standard setting were a constant source of worry and discussion throughout the period, with amounts granted to each force openly disclosed: BARNSLEY – The Watch Committee have recommended a new scale of pay for adoption by the Town Council. The scale provides for 29s.

Living costs  107 per week for Constables on appointment, 30s. after one year, 31s. after three years, rising to a maximum of 38s. per week; Sergeants, 39s. per week on appointment, rising to 45s. after seven years; Inspectors, 45s. on ­appointment, rising to 52s. after six years. Officers engaged in detective work receive 2s. per week additional. [3] The journal constantly compared the rates of pay between different forces throughout the period. “The Wives’ Column” often published the wives’ letters, particularly if the family had young children, and encouraged them to write to the journal showing how they spent their husband’s pay. The following quotation from a mother of five during July 1914 shows their struggle: Here is a list of where my money goes before I know where I am: Rent, 10s.; bread, 4s.; butter, 2s. 6d.; cheese, 8d.; lard, 4d.; groceries, tea, and household sundries, 4s.; greengrocer, 2s. 6d.; Sunday’s joint, 2s. 6d.; coal 7d.; gas, 7d.; insurance 2s.; boots. 1s.; clothing, 1s. After the joint is finished on Tuesday we do the best we can for the rest of the week. For breakfast we have what we can get. You will see that 32s. is gone already, so what about putting by for other expenses? [4] These items were basic foodstuffs for middle- and lower-­income families and depended on large imports of many basic raw materials, such as wheat and tea. Whereas the cost of rents, clothing, fuel and other non-­food items remained stable during the war, food prices soared. Before the onset of war, Britain imported around 60% of the energy value of its foodstuffs [5]; the main import was wheat. In May 1916, The Board of Trade Labour Gazette (from July 1917 renamed as The Labour Gazette) showed imports of wheat, wheatmeal and flour from Britain’s two main importing countries, the United States and Canada, amounting to 7,639,000 Cwt.1 (hundredweight) and 2,661,800 Cwt, respectively, while other countries made up a total import of these products of over 11 million Cwt., in a single, routine month [6]. This was to fall sharply as war progressed, particularly from January 1917 when imports of wheat from Canada dropped to below one million Cwt. for the first time in a year, mainly due to Germany’s unrestricted action to sink merchant ships bringing food supplies [7], which led to a huge increase in the price of bread, a main foodstuff for families with limited incomes (see also Chapter 13). As the breadwinner of the patriarchal police family, rates of pay were an issue that caused disquiet in the police and escalated during the war to culminate in one of the major issues in the police strikes of 1918 and 1919. The issue of pay and the war bonus portray Foucault’s social institutions and practices and show how the policeman and his family were held in the grip of the local authorities. Shortly after the onset of war in August 1914 and with the recruitment of many policemen into the armed forces, many Watch

108  Living costs Committees and Standing Joint Committees were petitioned by the police to increase their pay, in addition to granting a war bonus, which was often also given to other Council employees but was non-­p ensionable. The police made the case that being under-­strength, their work was now more arduous, involving extra duties and loss of time off: The Exeter Watch Committee have considered a petition from the Police with regard to their pay.… The war has resulted in an extraordinary amount of work being thrown on the Force, which, combined with the fact that the Force is considerably under strength, due to enlistment of members in the Army, makes the duties of the Force very arduous, and entails performance of much extra duty and the curtailment of the leave of the beat Constables by one half. [8] The portrayal of hardship varied between Forces. For those men called to fight, The Police Constables (Naval and Military Service) Bill 1914 empowered police authorities to make up the pay to reservists and other policemen serving in the war to that which was not being received in the Separation Allowance and other government allowances received by a wife or dependents, so that policemen and their families would receive an equal sum to that while serving in the police. However, as letters to The Police Review showed, some police authorities did not feel bound to give the full amount to the wives,2 as the Act did not compel them to do so, portraying their wives and families being in severe hardship. The journal pleaded for the Act to make allowances from police authorities compulsory [9]. By July 1915, annual leave had also widely become an issue, being compulsorily forfeited in some Forces since the beginning of the war. In some it was remunerated, in others the time was gradually repaid and others employed voluntary Special Constables to increase the workforce and allow the time to be gradually repaid. War bonuses, similar to other Council-­employed staff, were paid in some Forces, and in others the rates of pay were increased. Cambridgeshire offered a novel approach by linking the war bonus to the price of a four-­pound loaf of bread (the standard size of a loaf). The Chief Constable continued to monitor the cost of basic food items and to discuss these with the Standing Joint Committee; he was held up as a model of good practice in concern for the welfare of his force [10]. However, some Forces remained highly discontented and wrote to The Police Review complaining of procrastination running to many months in their case for increased pay or a war bonus to be considered. In July 1915, the journal surveyed all police authorities throughout Britain with the questions: 1 Is any payment made in your Force for overtime and the loss of annual and periodic leave since the war?

Living costs  109 2 What periodic and annual leave is now given? 3 Has a war bonus been granted? The journal published the results, naming each area to show its readers the situation and the differences between individual areas. Answers included the following: (1) no loss of annual leave; no payment for loss of time off, which had been gradually worked off; to payment for time off which had been lost; (2) annual and periodic leave as before the war; annual leave reinstated; periodic leave reduced to one day off in nine; and (3) no war bonus to any other municipal employee; a war bonus given; a war bonus and new scales of pay adopted [11]. Throughout the latter half of 1915, the journal published the results of decisions by individual police authorities in relation to pay and time off for their police forces, often on a weekly basis. Police wives also wrote in support of their husbands and their letters were published, including letters to the local press, supporting their husband’s case for increased remuneration by complaining: It is heart-­breaking to see my husband going out on duty with only potatoes for his dinner, sometimes a raw onion and bread. I have five children, the oldest ten and the youngest one year and six months. I have 31s. to keep them on. I pay 6s. 6d. rent, and we are not able to get butter. I used to get a quart of milk a day, that I have had to stop. [12] This quotation makes an appeal to the public on behalf of the whole family to support and put pressure on police authorities to increase police pay, while blaming Asquith’s government for their state of penury and starvation. This was only the start of food privation in the police, but there was little sympathy nationally for them, as some working-­class families were said to exist on “bread and a scrape” (of margarine or butter, if it was available and could be afforded) which formed the entire breakfast and teatime for millions of women and children throughout their lives [13]. Therefore, these claims of police families were not seen as serious by comparison. Therefore, their struggle to feed their families turned inwards to other police wives. “The Wives’ Column” of The Police Review asked its readers to provide their costs for standard food and household items from the previous July (1914) compared with July 1915. The results were printed from London and Bristol; both cities showed increases of between 2% and 2.5% per week on the cost of basic items. The increases were acknowledged to be around twice the amount of the war bonus, so that items which had come to be considered as luxuries in the diet, such as eating meat every day, had to be foregone. On a national level, Arthur Henderson, Labour Member of Parliament for Barnard Castle, President of the Board of Education and a member of Cabinet, and other Member of Parliament were pressurising

110  Living costs Prime Minister Asquith to speed up the Cabinet Committee Inquiry into the price and supply of commodities, particularly foodstuffs [14]. As price rises had been modest from the turn of the century to the start of the war, these levels of price increases for basic food items caused alarm. The Police Review encouraged the incorporated wives to submit items for “The Wives’ Column” and promised to increase the frequency of the column if sufficient text was received. They began publishing weekly menus with associated cost of the foodstuffs in October 1915, as well as recipes. By mid-1915, the column recognised that economising was necessary: In view of the present high prices for all kinds of provisions, it is necessary to economise in every direction. Fruit and vegetables are about the only articles of food which have not advanced in price to any extent since the war, and it is in this direction that the housekeeper must look if the weekly money is to be made to cover the family expenses … A good deal of nonsense is written about the wastefulness of the so-­called “working classes”, but a wage of 35s. a week or so does not leave much margin after five or six persons have been fed. [15] During 1916, the column recommended booklets published for housewives advocating cut-­price menus, and some advocated vegetarian menus to cut costs. But meat was seen to be needed to supply the energy required for the active life of a policeman on the beat, while “Happily a woman’s interior economy can be kept going on an even more restricted diet than that suggested,” portraying the good police wife as going without some food items or amounts of food to support her husband’s work, a well-­known phenomenon for wives, particularly among working class households where budgets were tight [16,17]. At the end of April 1916, “The Wives’ Column” published The Board of Trade Labour Gazette’s figures, which showed the rise in the cost of living since the start of the war as more than 40% in small towns and villages and over 50% in large towns. The column gave the increases per food item – fish prices had risen by over 100% in large towns and sugar prices by more than 120% nationwide; potatoes showed the smallest rise of 10% or less and so had become more central to the diet in many homes with restricted budgets. The column compared these increased prices to the average rise in the policeman’s take-­home pay of 15%–25%. July 1916 saw some Forces receive an increase in the war bonus due to the rising cost of living, but not all police authorities granted a war bonus, and some fell very badly behind with policemen sending letters to the journal lambasting their employers: WAKEFIELD writes – It is about time there was an alteration here respecting our pay. If the S.J.C. (Standing Joint Committee) cannot afford to give us a bonus, arrangements should be made for us to receive our

Living costs  111 magnificent 30s. a week on Fridays, and not Saturday night at 9pm., as is often the case. What can our wives do with it at that time of night? They have to go like paupers and ask tradesmen to trust them till next week. Colliers earn more money in half a week than we get in a full one, and they get their money by Saturday afternoon at latest, and their wives can then have the pick of the market, which is a consideration nowadays. Lots of men have left the Force recently to join the Army and other occupations. And is there any wonder? [18] Although pay, including a war bonus, was a serious bone of contention, time off was also portrayed as a major issue during the war, with some Forces being denied their promised one day off per week with no remuneration or time repaid. The resentment this caused was seen to escalate as the war progressed with fewer police officers available for duty as so many were called up, leaving mainly the older or returned disabled officers behind, some of the latter not able to undertake duties on the beat. However, worse was to come. The year 1916 saw a bad harvest worldwide. Prime Minister David Lloyd George told of lower cereal harvests in America, Canada and Argentina by 40 million tons compared with the previous year; he told parliament that this was disastrous for the sale of any surplus to overseas countries [19]. The 1916 wheat harvest in Britain also fell by 400,000 tons [20]. Coupled with this, sowing winter wheat for the following year had become more difficult and had decreased due to the shortage of farm labour and the poor weather conditions. These weather conditions during the 1916 harvest also affected the potato crop, which was said to be small and diseased. Police wives acknowledged that this staple item in the family’s diet would be absent until at least the harvest in mid-1917. Lloyd George appealed to the House of Commons that the nation must be called upon to make real sacrifices in the production and distribution of food, which must be equally spread across all classes and income groups: we must call upon the people of this country to make real sacrifices, but it is essential, when we do so, that the sacrifices should be equal. The over- ­consumption by the affluent must not be allowed to create a shortage for the less well-­to-do. I am sure we can depend upon men and women of all conditions … I hope we can appeal to men and women of all ranks and conditions to play the game. Any sort of concealment hurts the nation. It hurts it when it is fighting for its life. Therefore, we must appeal to the nation as a whole, men and women … to assist us to so distribute our resources that there shall be no man, woman or child who will be suffering from hunger because someone else has been getting too much. [21]

112  Living costs Furthermore, around a third of shipping which brought commodities to Britain had been diverted to transporting troops, munitions and supplies to France and other troop destinations, while Germany’s unrestricted submarine warfare, from January 1917, sank an increasing number of ships bringing food supplies to Britain; both these factors further increased food shortages and added to the price rise. The supply of food for the home front in Britain during early 1917 was in crisis (see also Chapter 10). Inevitably, January 1917 saw the publication of further steep price rises published by The Board of Trade Labour Gazette. Rises when compared with July 1914 showed a 42% increase, with the greatest increase (10%) in October 1916, “in which month there were increases of 5 to 10 per cent. in the prices of flour, bread, milk, butter, and cheese, and larger increases in fish, eggs and potatoes” [22]. Such was the concern for police families in October 1916 that a question by Philip Snowden, Liberal Member of Parliament for Blackburn, addressed to the Home Secretary in the Commons asked how many Metropolitan police officers in the past 6 months had applied to the Relief Fund due to debts incurred as a result of inadequacy of police pay in the lower ranks because of the increased cost of living. The use of statistics showed 71 applications had been received between 1 April and 30 September 1916 compared with 113 during the same period in 1914. The cause of applications was said to be illness in the family or other “domestic affliction” [23], undermining the case for higher police pay. However, by late 1917, the press also publicised poor police pay in some areas and showed differences between areas: Warwickshire was portrayed as particularly poor, giving only 6 shillings war bonus with an allowance for children, whereas in Surrey the war bonus was 14 shillings, with 1 shilling and 6 pence for each child; in Hampshire 15 shillings; in Wiltshire 12 shillings; and in Gloucester and Somerset 8 shillings and 6 pence, with 1 shilling for each child. This was said to cause great dissatisfaction [24]. Indeed, since the start of the war, some estimates put price rises for food items generally as double prewar levels, particularly for items mainly consumed by the working classes, and prices were still rising [25]. Lloyd George brought the national situation of food shortages and price rises to parliament’s attention, addressing the need to curtail many imports of items which were produced at home or where supplies were already stockpiled. There was no need to use the precious tonnage of shipping to import such commodities: there are certain articles of diet, of which we import a large quantity, which are not essential to the national living, although very desirable, and which we think it necessary to diminish the import of or prohibit altogether. The principal articles … will be as follows: Apples, tomatoes, and certain raw fruits. We have … come to the conclusion we shall have to prohibit altogether and depend upon our home supplies; oranges, bananas, grapes, almonds, and nuts will be restricted to 25 per cent, of the

Living costs  113 1916 imports. Aerated mineral and table waters will be prohibited, and we shall have to depend for them upon home industries; canned salmon 50 per cent. tea, we shall have to reduce foreign teas altogether. They have to be imported from a very considerable distance, and … Indian teas will be reduced. Of coffee there is a very large stock in this country, … we have enough to get along with until probably after the War. Cocoa has also got stuck here, and for the time being I am afraid we shall prohibit both coffee and cocoa …. Then there are meat and feeding stuffs. We think that we could now … depend upon home-­g rown meat, because we have a larger stock than I think we have ever had in this country. … Taking together … we hope to able to save over 900,000 tons per annum, which shows the extent to which we have relied upon foreign countries for commodities of that kind. [26] The Police Review acknowledged the necessity for changes in dietary habits as a result of the war but found no comfort in this as every item now showed steep price increases. The portrayal of hardship in January 1917 was such that “The Wives’ Column” began to print ways of supplementing the family income. While many women throughout Britain were working outside the home, often earning good money in munitions and other factories and workshops which helped them to offset some of the price rises, the incorporated police wife was not allowed to work outside the home. Any wife who did would cause her husband to be reprimanded; if she continued, it would ruin his promotion chances with the associated increased pay and more comfortable lifestyle for his family. Therefore, many police wives in hard times turned to how they could earn additional money from the home. Keeping poultry and selling the eggs was a favourite method, with much advice about the best ways to obtain maximum egg production: It is very important that cleanliness should be strictly observed, and a little Epsom salts occasionally added to their drinking water. Limewash, with a little paraffin added, is fine for the roosting house, and a box of road sweepings sunk into the ground for a dust bath. Pay an occasional night visit to the roosting house (which should be well ventilated) with a light to see if there are any red mite about – the fowls’ greatest pest. [27] As average egg prices had risen by more than 170% since July 1914 [28], keeping poultry and selling eggs would have been quite lucrative, as well as providing additional food for the family. They also had a good role model in Lady Denman who kept poultry and taught people around her home in Surrey about how to raise them for profit; she became a national figure in

114  Living costs her role as Chair of the Women’s Section of the National Poultry Society [29, 30]. Keeping rabbits for sale as food, particularly for town dwellers with limited outdoor space, was also advocated. Wives with no outside spaces to keep livestock also contributed with suggestions for needlework. However, not all wives agreed that undertaking work from home was possible and resented being expected to do so. They claimed that with a number of young children who absorbed their time they expected an increase in their allowance from their Watch Committee following the passage of the Police (Naval and ­Military Service) Act 1917 which enabled this [31]. The need to economise on food continued to dominate “The Wives’ Column.” Mid-­February 1917 saw mention of the effects of the Food Controller by setting limits on the consumption of bread, meat and sugar. This led The Police Review to ask its readers to suggest substitutes: What, then, is to be done to make up for the bread and flour previously used so largely? If suet pudding is eaten, the bread supply is reduced accordingly, and it is doubtful whether there is as much food value in 4 lbs. of potatoes as in a half-­quartern loaf. Many of our readers have no doubt considered the question, and have decided what is best. We, therefore, invite suggestions on the subject from experienced housekeepers who have to provide for large families. [32] The journal again advised booklets for “meatless” menus, implying a sense of deprivation, and gave a recipe for Irish potato pudding and advice on how to prepare split peas. Further suggestions involved using oats instead of flour for cakes and biscuits and making pancakes without eggs. However, not everyone agreed with the hardship police families faced or that they were a special case. The Police Review noted that a Councillor in Hove urged an increase in the war bonus for each child and was ridiculed: They have a queer sense of humour in Hove. When Councillor Varley in urging the Council to make the Bonus for children 1s. 6d. instead of 9d., as recommended, on the grounds that Police Constables and families were having an “extremely hard time” and were “on the verge of starvation”, his remarks were greeted with “laughter” and “renewed laughter”. The Councillor was rebuked for using such strong expressions in reference to the position of men who were receiving £2 a week, and his amendment was eventually defeated by 19 votes to 4. [33] At national level, Lloyd George urged an urgent increase in home food production: “the most important direction in which by home production we can assist to enable the country to overcome its difficulties … is in the

Living costs  115 production of food supplies” [34]. He said the most crucial factor in securing victory hung on not allowing starvation to affect the population at home as he saw happening in Germany. The nation taking over the control of food saw Cabinet agreeing to a four-­way policy of cooperation with the farmers: (1) minimum prices for wheat and oats on a diminishing sliding scale until 1919 [35]; (2) guaranteed minimum wages for farm labourers and setting up Wages Boards; (3) restrictions on increased rents for tithe properties for farm labourers and (4) powers to ensure and enforce good cultivation. This policy stabilised prices to more modest increases. The measures were enshrined in the April 1917 Corn Production Bill, most parts of which came into operation on 21 August 1917 [36]. It made food production the duty of farmers in wartime. The Bill also introduced a measure to compel farmers to cull their pheasants, notorious for eating newly planted seeds. A question in The Police Review brought the offence of not keeping game under control to the attention of its readers [37]; this was later clarified as only affecting pheasants [38]. Administrative structures were established nationally as Wages Boards set the minimum legal wages for workers on farms, woodlands, market gardens and orchards from September 1917. The minimum wage for such work was set at 25 shillings per week. Each Wages Board could set up District Wages Committees at their discretion. Every month between October 1917 and mid-1918, new Wages Boards were seen to be established around the country and to set minimum wages locally. Failure to pay the minimum wage was liable to a fine of up to £20 or a £1 per day fine after a conviction if wages were not increased to at least the minimum [39]. The end of March 1917 saw one of the staple items in the diet, potatoes, almost removed, with some people noticing a scarcity since January [40]. The increasing sense of desperation to feed the family economically with the still evident price rises for basic items was keenly felt by the police family: For all practical purposes we have said goodbye to potatoes until next July, and we are soon going to be asked – or possibly told – to decrease our present ration of bread from 4 lb. a week to an amount not yet stated. What are we going to substitute for these two staple foods? A year, or even six months ago, housekeepers were being urged to use lentils, haricot beans, etc., instead of meat, but these foods are now advancing in price, and butter beans, for instance, have risen from 3d. to 8d. a pint since the war. [41] The published wartime recipes now contained no sign of meat – rice and pea cake, cabbage stuffed with rice and curried vegetables were the suggestions. The near removal of potatoes from the diet was a bitter blow throughout Britain along with the threat of black market trading and huge increases in the price of potatoes, where they could be found, with the threat of civil

116  Living costs disruption and accusations of profiteering by farmers. This brought a new police duty: The potato shortage is putting another duty on the already overburdened Police. A Wolverhampton tradesman has been fined 40s. for selling potatoes at 2d. a lb. whilst at Bath a similar penalty was imposed for charging 2½ d. a lb. At Exeter last Saturday the Police had to regulate queues of people who were trying to get potatoes in the market. [42] Fines for selling produce at excessive prices were seen around Britain [43]. Indeed, food queues, particularly for bread and potatoes, were such in ­London that the police had to be brought in to supervise them. In W ­ rexham, when a farm wagon of potatoes arrived, it was surrounded by hundreds of people who scrambled onto the wagon in their desperation to buy potatoes that the police were called to restore order [44, 45]. However, unlike Germany, Austria and Italy, where there were said to be food riots and strikes in 1915 and 1917 and France where food demonstrations occurred in 1917 [46], Britain remained able to contain shortages without serious public protest, although lengthy food queues were seen in many locations [47]. Not only the wives, but also the policemen were strongly encouraged to do their bit to overcome food shortages, by cultivating their gardens or allotments or turning them over to grow vegetables [48] (see also Chapter 10). By April 1917, the Food Controller advised the nation to eat as little bread as possible. This was endorsed by a message from the King on 2 May that “all heads of households to reduce the consumption of bread in their respective families by at least one-­fourth of the quantity consumed in ordinary times”; this was read in churches and chapels throughout Britain [49]. As potatoes were almost unavailable in towns, drastic measures to feed the nation at home were needed. Advice was to substitute eating bread and potatoes for swedes or mangold-­w urzels (usually used as cattle feed and said to be very unpalatable), which were advocated as plentiful and inexpensive. Because mangold-­w urzel was so unpalatable, the Food Controller’s Office experimented with recipes to improve its palatability – four of these recipes were published in The Police Review: 1 lb. mangold-­w urzel. 1/4 lb. vegetable butter or dripping. 2 small onions. Pepper and salt. Cook the mangold-­w urzel in the butter for about 20 minutes, or until tender. Then add the onion (which has been previously chopped) and

Living costs  117 pepper and salt. Drain for a moment before serving on cooked lentils, buttered rice or cheese sauce. [50] Other recipes advised grilled or baked dishes. Rice and maize meal were also said to be substitutes for potatoes [51]. “The Children’s Column” also encouraged the children of police families to focus on sharing the family’s food burden. July 1917 saw a competition asking them to submit an essay on how they had changed their diet. The winning entry said she was eating a third less bread and a little less cake and pastry to help to preserve flour. She had signed the Food Pledge at her school [52], similar to other children around Britain [53], shaming other family members to eat likewise. The Food Pledge was promoted by Lloyd George to voluntarily reduce the nation’s bread consumption and to change their eating habits [54, 55]. Propaganda to eat less bread was also promoted through the King’s Proclamation. August 1917 saw Local Authorities in England and Wales approached by the Local Government Board and in Scotland the Scottish Office to establish Local Food Committees to administer sugar distribution, to continue the campaign of food economy and to deal with other scarce foodstuffs such as bread and meat, to enforce the regulated prices set by the Food Controller and to advise on the need for any special local price modifications [56]. However, by the harvest of 1917, a national transformation was seen in the food supply, said to be due to the policy of home production and government action in the Corn Production Bill, including increased farm mechanisation. The yield was said to have increased by: 4,928,000 bushels of Wheat 5,120,000 bushels of Barley 36,700,000 bushels of Oats 41,813,000 sacks of Potatoes [57] This was said to give hope to the population for improved home food production in the following year, particularly in grain and potato products, and to ensure the supply of breadstuffs and potatoes was maintained, regardless of shortages in other foods. However, by December 1917, food prices were continuing to rise. The Police Review published a question in the House of Commons, which showed the extent of these rises and how most of the population had had to change their dietary habits to minimise the increases: F. Hall (Dulwich) asked the Parliamentary Secretary to the Ministry of Food what is the average increase in the cost of articles of food now, compared with the cost at the end of July, 1914? Mr Parker: According

118  Living costs to Returns published by the Department of Labour Statistics, the average increase in the cost of articles of food on November 1st 1917, as compared with the cost at the end of July 1914, is 106%. The calculation assumes, however, that the various commodities are consumed in the same proportions as before the War. Allowing for the considerable substitution of commodities which are still plentiful for those which have become scarce, the average rise in cost between those dates may be put at 90%. [58] The continuing rise in the cost of living, particularly as it affected the working classes, was seen to be a serious problem for the government, prompting setting up the Committee of Investigation by the Chancellor of the Exchequer. The Police Review gave its readers a factual statement of the committee’s terms of reference: “(1) the actual increase since June, 1914, in the cost of living to the working classes, and (2) any counterbalancing factors (apart from increases in wages)” [59]. Local food rationing of sugar, butter and margarine started in December 1917 and became nationwide in early 1918 in a National Rationing Scheme, which included many of the staple foods. Control of the food supply also attempted distribution of the staple foodstuffs across Britain [60] and tried to prevent hoarding [61]. Although Spring 1918 saw a further increase in the winter wheat crop of 45% over the previous year’s production and an increased acreage under corn and potato planting in England and Wales of 2,142,000 acres more than in 1916, the cost of foodstuffs was still said to be on average 108% dearer than in July 1914. This level of increase did not take account of the nation’s change in their diet that had been promoted by government and was seen as essential, particularly in low-­income households, in attempts to modify the price rises [62]. However, using scientific formulas, the government’s investigations into calorific values of foodstuffs compared with the male body’s requirements showed that despite the hardships, the nation’s average male calorific intake only diminished to a very small extent, from 3,454 calories per day in 1914 to 3,358 daily calories in 1918 [63]. The problem was therefore framed as more one of distribution than actual shortage. But the portrayal of hope that the nation would not starve was given in Spring 1918, when the government made it known that Britain as a whole had the highest acreage under wheat, barley and oats ever recorded and the highest acreage of potatoes since 1872 [64]. The Interim Report of the Director General of Food Production for England and Wales showed the results of the 1917–1918 food production campaign had been very successful with thousands more acres of wheat, potatoes, oats, rye, corn and pulses, and barley planted compared with previous years since the start of the war [65]. The 1918 harvest was said to be greater than any since 1888, which

Living costs  119 did not include the considerable part played by more than 20,000 acres turned over to growing vegetables on allotments with nearly 1.5 million allotments worked mainly by townspeople [66]. Police involvement in ploughing the land and growing vegetables on allotments is developed further in Chapter 10. In conclusion, the discourse of the incorporated police wife saw the pressure on her and her husband to adopt police values. This would determine the lifestyle for the whole family. All her energies must go into the role of a police wife and deviations were strenuously dealt with by institutional threats to her husband’s advancement in his chosen career with the associated improvement in the family’s standard of living and social advancement. To be successful in this role, she strongly aligned herself with other police wives by looking inwards for support and guidance. In this, she was supported by the police journal The Police Review. However, particularly in wartime, there were increasing hardships for the family, in which the good incorporated wife would go without to enable better food provision for her husband, as police pay was not seen to keep pace with the highly inflationary cost of essential foods. As many in Britain were employed and receiving a wage or salary, police families were amongst those who suffered the most privation of all. Police pay was the only source of income, as the good incorporate wife was not allowed to work outside the home, unlike many other women in Britain, to help to contain inflationary pressures on the family. These pressures were a major factor which led to mounting discontent in the police force, culminating in the police strike of 1918. However, there was little public support for the plight of the police constable’s family, as everyone was said to be suffering increasing food shortages and rising prices.

Notes 1 Cwt. (pronounced hundredweights) was an imperial measure of weight; 20 Cwt = 1 ton. 1 Cwt = 50.8 kg. 2 In the case cited, the Police Authority originally allowed the reservist 2 shillings 6 pence for his child and allowed his wife and child to live rent free in their house. The complaint was that the 2 shillings 6 pence was stopped in October 1914, although his wife and child were still allowed to live rent free in the same property.

References 1 Callan, H. & Ardener, H. (eds) (1984) The Incorporated Wife. London: Croom Helm. 2 Young, M. (1984) ‘Police Wives: A Reflection of Police Concepts of Order and Control’. In Callan, H. & Ardener, H. (eds), The Incorporated Wife. London: Croom Helm, pp. 67–88. 3 The Police Review, Police Pay. The Provincial Forces. 12 June 1914, p. 278. 4 The Police Review, The Wives’ Column. The Overburdened Mother. 10 July 1914, p. 332.

120  Living costs 5 Dewey, P.E., Wall, R., & Winter, J.M. (Nutrition and Living Standards in Wartime Britain). The Upheaval of War. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. 6 The Board of Trade Labour Gazette, Prices of Wheat, Flour and Bread. June 1916, p. 220. 7 The Board of Trade Labour Gazette, Prices of Wheat, Flour and Bread. February 1917, p. 75. 8 The Police Review, Police Pay. War Bonus Recommended: Exeter. 9 July 1915, p. 335. 9 The Police Review, Police Law and Practice: Questions and Answers. 13805. Police and Military Service – Allowances to Families (italics supplied). 24 August 1917, p. 266. 10 The Police Review, The Policeman’s Budget. 26 October 1917, p. 341. 11 The Police Review, Suspended Leave and the War Bonus. Arrangements in ­Lancashire Boroughs. 9 July 1915, p. 335. 12 The Police Review, Letters to the Editor. 16 July 1915, p. 339. 13 Barnett, L. M. (1985) British Food Policy During The First World War. Boston: George Allen & Unwin, p. 141. 14 Glasgow Herald, Prices of Commodities: The Cabinet Committee Inquiry. 3 February 1915, p. 11. 15 The Police Review, The Wives’ Column: War Prices and the Family Budget. 11 June 1915, p. 285. 16 Spring-­Rice, M. (1939) Working Class Wives. London: Virago; Pemberton Reeves, M. (1913). Round about a Pound a Week. London: Virago. 17 Clarke, P. (1997) Hope and Glory: Britain 1900–2000. London: Penguin Books, p. 91. 18 The Police Review, Letters to the Editor. Yorkshire, W.R., Pay, 25 February 1916, p. 87. 19 House of Commons Debates, 19 December 1916, vol 88, cc1347–1348. 20 War Memoirs of David Lloyd George, 1916–1917 (1934). Boston: Little, Brown, and Company. 21 House of Commons Debates, 19 December 1916, vol 88, cc1347–1348. War Memoirs of David Lloyd George, 1916–1917. Op. cit., p. 207. 22 The Police Review, Record Food Prices. Official figures. 26 January 1917, p 28. 23 The Police Review, House of Commons. Tuesday, 17 October. Metro Relief Fund. 20 October 1916, p. 425. 24 The Police Review, Notes and Comments. 12 October 1917, p. 325. 25 Clarke, P. (1997) Hope and Glory: Britain 1900–2000. London: Penguin, p. 96. 26 Restriction of Imports, House of Commons Debates, 23 February 1917, vol. 90, cc1509–1610. 27 The Police Review, The Wives’ Column: Keeping Poultry for Profit. 9 February 1917, p. 42. 28 The Board of Trade Labour Gazette, Retail prices of food. January 1917, p. 6. 29 Scott, C. (2017) Holding the Home Front: The Women’s Land Army in the First World War. Barnsley: Pen and Sword History. Figure 3 and p. 101. 30 Leeds Mercury, Lady Denman ‘who takes a keen interest in poultry-­keeping’. 19 September 1916. 31 The Police Review, Sheffield: Police Separation Allowances. 5 October 1917, p. 315. 32 The Police Review, The Wives’ Column: The Bread and Meat Rations. 16 February 1917, p. 51. 33 The Police Review, Notes and Comments. 22 June 1917, p. 197. 34 Restriction of Imports. House of Commons Debates 23 February 1917, vol. 90, cc1598. 35 War Memoirs of David Lloyd George, 1916–1917. Op. cit., p. 211.

Living costs  121 36 Corn Production Act, 1917 with explanatory memorandum by C. Crofton Black. The Land Union, 15, Lower Grosvenor Place, London S.W.1. 37 The Police Review, Police Law and Practice. Questions and Answers; 13,750. 23 February 1917; Game License Woodcock and Snipe, p. 58. 38 The Police Review, Imperial Parliament; House of Commons, Monday 12 March, Killing of Game: Farmers. 16 March 1917, p. 81. 39 The Labour Gazette, October 1917, p. 358; January 1918, p. 79; March 1918, p. 95; April 1918, p. 60; May 1918, p. 135; May 1918, p. 175; June 1918, p. 219. 40 Charman, T. (2015) The First World War on the Home Front. London: Andre Deutsch, p. 184. 41 The Police Review, The Wives’ Column: Food in War Time. 30 March 1917, p. 103. 42 The Police Review, Parade Gossip. 16 March 1917, p. 81. 43 Charman, T. (2015) op. cit., p. 188. 44 Birmingham Daily Post, 9 April 1917. 45 Scott, C. (2017) op. cit., p. 151. 46 Beckett, I. F. W. (2013) (2nd edition) The Great War 1914–1918. London: Routledge, p. 375. 47 Charman, T. (2015) op. cit., pp. 198–199. 48 The Police Review, Hull Police Allotments: The Food Shortage. 30 March 1917, p. 104. 49 Charman, T. (2015) op. cit., p. 181. 50 The Police Review, The Wives’ Column: Substitutes for Bread and Potatoes. 20 April 1917, p. 123. 51 The Police Review, The Wives’ Column: Substitutes for Bread and Potatoes. 28 April 1917, p. 123. 52 The Police Review, The Children’s Corner. 13 July 1917, p. 214. 53 Charman, T. (2015) op. cit., p. 187. 54 Everybody’s Business, Film: Imperial War Museum 516, June 1917. 55 Barnett, L. M. (1985) British Food Policy During The First World War. Boston: George Allen & Unwin, p. 115. 56 The Labour Gazette, Local Food Committees: Their Constitution and Duties. August 1917, p. 276. 57 War Memoirs of David Lloyd George, 1916–1917. op. cit., p. 231. 58 The Police Review, House of Commons. 7–14 December 1917, p. 394. 59 The Police Review, Notes and Comments. 28 March 1918, p. 101. 60 Gazeley, I. & Newell, A. (2013) The First World War and Working- ­Class Food Consumption in Britain. European Review of Economic History 17, 1, 71–94. 61 Richardson, M. (2015) The Hunger War: Food, Rations & Rationing 1914–1918. Barnsley: Pen and Sword Books Ltd. Chapter 4, The Home Front in Britain, pp. 98–129. 62 The Labour Gazette, Course of Retail Prices of Food: United Kingdom. April 1918, p. 136. 63 Beveridge, W. H. (1928) British Food Control. London: Humphrey Milford ­Oxford University Press. 64 War Memoirs of David Lloyd George, 1916–1917. Op. cit., p. 238. 65 The Labour Gazette, Food Production. June 1918, p. 218. 66 War Memoirs of David Lloyd George, 1916–1917. Op. cit., p. 246.

7 Pensions and philanthropy

Pensions The discourse of police pensions shows their portrayal as being a highly prized part of employment as a policeman. By the Police Act, 1890, a constable of twenty-­five years service is entitled to retire on a pension, and this pension can be forfeited only in certain cases which are defined by the Act—that is, if he is convicted of an offence punishable with penal servitude or three months imprisonment, or if he knowingly associates with thieves … [1] The guaranteed police pension also included a central government contribution. The police were one of the first groups to be eligible for a pension on retirement. In some ways, the promise of delayed gratification that a pension offered was seen to make up for some of the other poorer conditions of service, such as low pay in the lower grades. The discourse of police pensions, which also included a widow’s and dependent’s pension, vital in the war years due to so many policemen serving in the army or navy who were killed in action, shows how a pension affected the policeman and his family. The discourse of a police pension also shows how the state took over payment of police widow’s pensions during the war, as it took over so many other areas of life: “The circumstances of the war compelled the state to control almost every aspect of society from industrial production, to food distribution, to the conscription of fighting men and the direction of civilian labour” [2]. Whereas the police were responsible for administering their pension scheme since its inception in 1890, they lost some of this responsibility to the nationally administered scheme during 1916, with some regret. The law on police pensions was changed in 1914, to allow police authorities to pay a police wife or widow and children half of the total amount of allowances and pensions due: (2) If a man dies or is disabled whilst employed on naval or military service the police authority shall have power to grant to his widow

Pensions and philanthropy  123 and children or to him pensions and allowances equal to one-­half the amount payable out of naval or military funds …. So however that the total amount receivable from such funds as aforesaid shall not in any case exceed the maximum amount which could have been awarded under the police Act, 1890. [3] This Act, which became law on 18 September, alleviated the police authorities from contributing the total amount of a pension from police funds due to the men and their families who were injured or died in the war. The importance of a pension to the police is partially illustrated in The Police Review Questions and Answers page, which contained almost weekly letters from policemen about the details of their pension contributions and return. For example, I served two years and 11 months in a Police Force and paid to the Pension fund at the rate of 8d. per week. I cannot count that service in another Force as the two years’ service was served before 21 years of age, and is not approved service. Can I claim for the return of the deductions? I am told by superior men that I have a claim and it cannot be refused me. [4] This quotation also shows that, regardless of the eligibility for a pension (the above questioner being below the eligible age), deductions from pay were made; this will be seen to be controversial later. Following the outbreak of war in August 1914 and the inevitable deaths in battle, widow’s pensions rose in importance for the police. Stoke-­on-Trent was one of the first Watch Committees to make strong representation to the War Office to have widows and dependents treated fairly. They also made an allowance from the police pension fund, as the law allowed: The Watch Committee resolved to carry out their powers by granting from the pension fund an annual amount equal to 50% of the amount granted by the military authorities to the widow of P.C. William Robins, of Fenton, who was killed in action recently. [5] However, the following month his widow gave birth to another child, which was portrayed as causing consternation to the Watch Committee as there was no provision in the Police Pensions Acts to provide for such an occurrence, although her need was acknowledged. The case became of interest to the Police and Military Authorities as it might also affect many other police reservist’s dependents [6]. However, a crisis of manpower in the police was said by the Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police Sir Edward Henry to be urgent and looming in

124  Pensions and philanthropy early 1915. He portrayed the Metropolitan Police as recruiting large numbers of officers during 1889–1890, who would shortly complete 26 years’ service and be due to retire on a pension. Not only would the force shortly lose these men, but also 3,015 officers had been withdrawn from the Metropolitan Police as Reservists into the Army, or for other employment on special military duties or for the protection of the dockyards and military stations. His statistics showed that, since the outbreak of war, an additional 380 officers had left between 1 August and 31 December 1914 due to being unfit or on voluntary retirement. His letter to the Secretary of State pleaded that he had received notice from a further 60 constables due to retire at the end of April and expected that within a year this number would have risen to 652 experienced police officers. To help retain many of these, he recommended suspending the right to retire unless on a medical certificate or with the consent of the Chief Constable. He said this had the support of the police generally [7]. The Police (Emergency Provisions) Act, 1915, enacted this request, removing the right of most officers to retire with a pension: 2. Notwithstanding any enactment to the contrary, no constable shall, during the continuance of the present war, be entitled without a medical certificate to retire or receive a pension for life except with the consent of the chief officer of the police force to which he belongs. [8] This delayed, for officers in England, Wales and Scotland, their right to retire on a pension until the end of the war. However, the portrayal of their distaste at still having deductions of pension contributions from their pay, while already being eligible for the maximum allowable pension, reached the House of Commons and the press: Mr. CHARLES DUNCAN asked the Home Secretary whether he is aware that stoppages are being made for superannuation purposes from the pay of police officers in the Metropolitan area who through length of service are entitled to, and have been given notice of, their desire to retire on pension, but whose services are retained under the Police (Emergency Provisions) Act, 1915; whether he is aware that these stoppages are considered by the men to be unfair, owing to the fact that such payment does not qualify them for any increase in their pension and whether he will give instructions for these deductions to cease forthwith? [9] The deductions were quickly reduced to 1 shilling per annum and enshrined in legislation [10]. However, discontent continued in the Metropolitan and other Forces around the country. One reason was that police pensioners were persuaded to return voluntarily to employment to replace those who

Pensions and philanthropy  125 left to join the army by offering them a high rate of pay as well as continuing to receive their pension. In some cases, as The Police Review pointed out, pensioners received nearly twice the weekly pay [11]. This anomaly was also subsequently removed as part of retrenchment in public expenditure [12,13]. Furthermore, James Gilbert, Liberal Member of Parliament for Newington West, asked a question in the House of Commons whether police officers retained after their due retirement date would receive additional pensionable years or, failing that would they receive a bonus when they were released from service, whether they would be given some other special treatment [14]. This made an unfavourable comparison for the police who had their right to retire withdrawn for the duration of the war with a soldier, who on successful completion of 22 years’ service received a lump sum of £25. Sir Edward Henry recounted this unrest to the Secretary of State and recommended that a deferred bonus of £26 on retirement or to a widow should be given to policemen who qualified for a pension from 19 May 1915 onwards [15]. This was approved by the Secretary of State on 6 December 1916 [16]. However, by February 1917 it had not entirely quietened protests, as Metropolitan Police officers retained after their due retirement complained that they did not receive any increase in their pay and were still posted to night duty while seeing themselves working for less than a pound a week alongside men who were receiving more than £2 10 shillings. They felt the delayed gratification of the bounty on retirement did not give sufficient recognition to their daily remuneration [17]. Similar protests were seen in Derby [18]. By July, the journal showed these protests had made an impact, as the journal published increased pay for time-­expired policemen in 47 forces in England and Wales with a further 2 police authorities agreeing to give the £26 war bonus on retirement after the war [19]. But by the end of November 1917, with the continued rise in food prices (as seen in the previous chapter), the promise of a bonus of £26 at the end of the war for time-­expired policemen was wearing a bit thin; they wanted the bonus to be paid quarterly and to have the phrase “if the Commissioner thinks fit” removed from the arrangement [20]. With so many deaths in the war up to February 1915 and with the publication, on 2 February, of the First Report of the Select Committee on War Pensions and Allowances was seen to give considerably more generous allowances than previously [21], The Police Review considered the financial implications of police widows and orphans. It told its readers that War Office pensions formed the basis upon which the police widow’s pension was calculated. Section 1 of the Police Constables (Naval and Military Service) Act, 1914, said, if a man dies or is disabled whilst employed on military or naval service, the Police Authority shall have powers to grant to his widow and children or to him pensions and allowances equal to one-­half the amount payable out of naval or military funds in pursuance of a Royal

126  Pensions and philanthropy Warrant  …. So, however, that the total amount receivable from the Police Authority when added to the amount payable from such funds as aforesaid shall not in any case exceed the maximum amount which could have been awarded by the Police Act, 1890, as amended by any subsequent enactment, if the injury had been received by the man in the execution of his duty as a Constable without his own default, and the injury had not been accidental. [22] However, when calculated according to the Police Act 1909, the new War Office Pension [23] was seen to be more than or at least equal to the police widow’s pension, so that nothing could be added from the police fund. The Police Review called the measures “a barmecide feast,” indicating the police were expecting more generosity from the government. The journal attributed this to the need for more public education to recognise that a policeman who lost his life to protect his countrymen should have his wife and children protected, not starved! The journal hoped that the Select Committee on Pensions in addition to the War Service award to widows and children would also give some recognition to the police service where pension contributions had been made [24]. These claims alerted readers in advance of publication of the Select Committee on Naval and Military Grants Second Report, which would set up the structure of national and local committees to decide on pensions from public funds and the conditions of forfeiture of the funds [25]. However, a question in the House of Commons on 14 March 1916 to Herbert Samuel, Home Secretary, confirmed that a full Army pension paid to a widow could only be supplemented by the police pension scheme if it was less than she would have received from the police scheme. He indicated that the Army pension exceeded the maximum possible under the Police Acts [26]. But the decision not to pay a supplementary police pension to widows of policemen killed in the war was far from clear locally. Somerset Standing Joint Committee wrote to the Home Office to clarify if awards to two widows that they were already making were justified. The response indicated that they should be discontinued: The widows in fact are getting more from war funds than they would have got from Police funds if their husbands had been killed while acting as Policemen, and there seems no sufficient reason for giving … the small sum which a possible, but doubtful, construction of the statutes would enable us to do, when to do so would not be in accordance with the practice in the Metropolis, which has been sanctioned by the Home Office. [27] In order to secure a supplementary pension for police war widows, The Police Review investigated other avenues. It told its readers that a pension from

Pensions and philanthropy  127 the Police Mutual Assurance Association was similar to a life insurance scheme paid by a policeman. It gave calculations based on payment of a few pence per week over a varying number of years which would give the widow a varying level of annuity, depending on the number of years of contributions. It also warned that schemes offering more than this could be “dangerously misleading” [28]. The editor developed a campaign to assess police pension arrangements around Britain by writing to a number of Forces, including Cardiff (strength 289), Dover (strength 68), Edinburgh (strength 626; fund established in 1888) and Reading (strength 111; fund established 1905), to ask for the details of their Widows’ and Orphans’ Fund as of 1913: 1 2 3 4 5

Is membership compulsory? Amount of member’s contributions? Amount subscribed yearly by public subscription? Amount realised yearly by concerts, etc.? Amount of benefit?

The journal published the answers to show that 1 Only Reading made contributions compulsory as a condition of service; however, in both Edinburgh and Dover all members contributed voluntarily; 2 Only Cardiff had a flat rate of 3 pence per week, two of the other Forces had at least doubled their contributions since the start of the war, two Forces had a joining fee for Inspectors and above and one Force had a contribution of 1/4 pence for each child; 3 Only one Force claimed to have held an annual concert. The other Forces had received donations of between £41 1 shilling and 8 pence and £192; 4 A substantial sum was claimed to have been raised by one Force, the others raised between £108 and £345 during the year from concerts and other fund-­raising activities; 5 The amounts paid to widows varied between 5 shillings and 6 shillings per week, children received between 1 shilling and 6 pence and 2 shillings and 6 pence per week The amounts paid bore no relation to the size of the Force. The Police Review noted that subscriptions were more than doubled by public contributions and efforts by the police in fund-­raising activities, but noted that no subscriptions were returnable on withdrawal from the fund, which tied longer serving, more experienced officers to the police, whereas younger officers with no dependents were freer to leave. All the funds appeared stable, but Reading made provision to lower the benefits if funds decreased to a level where they could not be sustained. Reading also sent their Book of Rules and Regulations to the journal [29]. As a result of the questionnaire, the

128  Pensions and philanthropy Edinburgh Force submitted a separate report on its Widow’s and Orphans’ Fund to The Police Review which claimed that in February 1916 there were 85 beneficiaries from the fund. They felt fortunate to have a major benefactor who donated £1,000 on two occasions [30]. Although many cases reported were of policemen killed or injured in the war, one case of the death of a policeman at home caused the journal to raise questions. Inspector Harris of Bristol was killed in a fire while on duty. The journal reported that under the Police Act 1890 his widow would receive up to £25 per year and each child £5. However, the Police Act 1909 extended these payments where loss of life was not accidental: where a constable loses his life from the effects of an injury which is not accidental, the police authority shall increase the pension to the widow to a sum equal to one-­third of the annual pay of the constable, and the allowance to each child to a sum equal to one-­fifteenth of such pay. [31] But Bristol Town Council was unwilling to raise payments to the 1909 level. The debate in the journal argued strongly that other cases, such as injury to an officer due to stopping a runaway horse was seen as not accidental and the higher rate was paid. If only death by criminal violence was perceived as not accidental, this considerably reduced the impact of the Act. The circumstances of the accident, the journal argued, should be judged against those admitted in an accident policy. If only the lower amount were granted, Inspector Harris’s children would have to be taken into the workhouse, avoided in this case by the generosity of local people subscribing to a fund for the children, which raised £435 [32]. The deliberations of Bristol City Council were published in the journal the following week. They said they very much regretted being unable to raise the level of pension to the two children under 15, particularly as the current levels caused considerable hardship for the family, but they were legally unable to do so. They made representation to the Home Secretary for an amendment to the 1909 Police Act [33]. A further issue raised in The Police Review was its gentle criticism of the army pension for not giving a lump sum to widows on their bereavement, to help to alleviate immediate costs. It again compared the Army pension with private accident insurance schemes, where an immediate lump sum was awarded. The journal praised a suggestion by both the Hull and ­Sheffield Police Authorities to return two of the men’s contributions to their widows, amounting to around £12 each, and made the case that as the War Office now paid all widows’ pensions, the call on police pension funds was far less, so that they could afford to be more generous to help to prevent widows from becoming burdened by debt [34]. Representation was made to the Home Secretary during debates on the Police, Factories etc., (Miscellaneous

Pensions and philanthropy  129 Provisions) Bill that some, if not all, of the contributions should be returned to the widow at least for the duration of the war. But the journal reported this was not heeded [35]. However, the case was made persistently which gained the support of several Members of Parliament who drafted an amendment: In the case of any Constable who dies whilst employed on naval or military service, the Police Authority shall have power to return to any of his dependents, as defined in Section 1 of the Police Reservist (Allowances) Act, 1914 [4 and 5 Geo. V. c. 34] the rateable deductions which have been made from his pay towards pension. The journal strengthened its argument saying that currently contributions may be returned if a Constable resigned from the Force, so why if he died did his dependents not receive the same treatment? [36]. The amendment was agreed at the Committee Stage on 6 July 1916 [37] and enshrined in legislation [38]. However, some Police Pension funds were seen to be badly managed, as the funds in Hull were in deficit to the tune of £6,012 [39]. In conclusion, as with many other areas during the First World War, the government took over paying pensions to the widows and dependents of police officers killed or seriously injured in action. Despite the return to widows of some contributions, police pension funds were held largely in abeyance until the end of the war. Retirement was only allowed with permission of the Chief Constable due to the predicted numbers due to retire during the war years, which tied those of retirement age to the Force, unless they had private means. The war years saw much disquiet in the Metropolitan and other Forces around the country about their pension arrangements, which required continual legislation to attempt to provide solutions to grievances.

Philanthropy Despite the state absorbing many areas of life, such as payment of separation allowances and pensions to widows, the discourse of philanthropy still had a role. In the police, this was through their portrayal of a social conscience, particularly for disadvantaged women and children, seen in their support of their own disadvantaged women and children who would be raised with police values, the latter tending to be in a police orphanage. More widely, the police supported those identified as from the poorer classes who were said to be needy. Distribution of funds to this latter group also gave the police increased access to the lives of recipients and so increased their visibility by police surveillance, significant because these families and neighbourhoods were said to have more crime than the more affluent areas. It also gave the police a more welcome presence in these communities. One method of support for disadvantaged police children was through the Metropolitan and City Police Orphanage at Strawberry Hill, Twickenham.

130  Pensions and philanthropy Their summer festival in July 1914 was said to attract not only the Metropolitan Police Commissioner Sir Edward Henry, but also many distinguished guests, including the Lord and Lady Mayoress and the Sheriffs of the City of London. Funds to support the orphanage came from donations from serving police officers – in July 1914, more than 20,000 officers were said to contribute – as well as funds raised through events which attracted many wealthy benefactors. The orphanage not only accommodated around 230 children from widowed police families, it also made grants to a further 800 children, who were unable to be accommodated in the orphanage, to assist the police widows [40,41]. Sir Edward Henry was recognised for his contribution to the widows and orphans – “he always had the best interests of the widows and orphans very close to his heart” – on his retirement in 1918 [42]. A further example of how this orphanage was funded was seen on 10 June 1917, when a concert at the London Palladium by the celebrity musical entertainer George Robey was due to be staged with the expectation that a large cheque would be donated [43]. Two further police orphanages were based at Harrogate and Redhill, both supported by voluntary contributions [44] and from mid-1917 with help from the police fund. Concerts and other fund-­raising activities to support the Police Widows’ and Orphans’ Fund were held throughout Britain, details of which appeared in The Police Review, such as in Cardiff in January 1916. But some Watch Committees, for example, Portsmouth, would not allow the police to sell tickets, so that they had to rely on public donations [45]. However, Portsmouth rescinded their objection in early 1917 when the need for funds was urgent; a concert was planned for 14 February in the Town Hall organised by the Special Constables [46]. To support their charitable giving, police forces maintained contact with local wealthy and influential benefactors in many locations throughout ­Britain, which gave an ear to the police to promote local and national issues of importance to them. The Police Review encouraged this by publishing many police forces charitable events in support of their local fund. Stockport was an example, where the Stockport Police Poor Children’s Outing Fund received donations raised by local secondary school children who gave a musical concert in a prestigious local venue [47]. This kind of philanthropy gave police a more approachable image with the local working and poorer classes and made police surveillance easier. The police were also well known nationally in their support for clothing destitute children, a scheme begun in Edinburgh in the late nineteenth century which spread nationwide; many forces had their own scheme which operated according to local needs and conditions. In Brighton during the war, the scheme was taken on by the wives: Wives of the Brighton Police take a keen interest in the local Police Aided Scheme for Clothing Destitute Children. They have formed

Pensions and philanthropy  131 themselves into a working class at the Police Institute. As a result of this work, 260 useful garments were made and distributed last season, and 300 servant’s garments have since been made for distribution this season. [48] In Blackpool, the scheme was run by the Special Constables [49]. Exeter’s scheme, headed by the Chief Constable, had also distributed 165 pairs of boots and “a large quantity of clothing” to children in the winter of 1914– 1915. Since 1906, the Exeter fund was said to have clothed 1,625 families and 3,860 children in the city [50]. Manchester’s scheme claimed that since its inception 13 ½ years previously, it had clothed 12,872 children and distributed 66,665 garments [51]. Leicester’s Police-­A ided Association was also said to have provided 34 children with 151 garments and 31 pairs of boots during the 1915 season [52]. The Police Aided Scheme for Clothing Destitute Children received support from many public figures, including Winston Churchill, who promoted it as part of Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee celebrations in 1897. Not all fund raising was to support the police or for poor and destitute children. Police wives were engaged in other charitable causes during the war. The Nottingham Police Wives’ Association held their annual party on 11 January 1916, from which they donated the profits to the Christmas Parcels Fund; the previous year this fund had sent 135 parcels to troops at the front. They also held a summer garden party and sent the proceeds to the Serbian Relief Fund [53]. Glasgow raised more than £750 from two police concerts which they donated equally to the Lord Provost’s Soldiers’ and Sailors’ Fund and the Red Cross [54]. Holloway Special Constables bought and equipped a house from funds they raised which was to be used as a recreation home for wounded soldiers; they also sponsored two beds in the Great Northern Hospital [55]. Increasingly, the Special Constables were also involved in charitable police work. In Plymouth, they were reported to have entertained 200 wounded soldier and sailors and provided tea: A glee party, composed of members of the Police Force, under Inspr. Davies, gave a Policeman’s Chorus from “The Pirates of Penzance,” and the specially composed “Policeman’s Holiday.” The Chief Constable said a few words of appreciation of the Special Constables, whom he considered a fine, willing body of men. [56] The increasing number of Special Constables was seen to take on the police values of philanthropy. In conclusion, the increasing role of government in all aspects of life in Britain during the First World War absorbed the police pension by granting

132  Pensions and philanthropy a pension to widows and orphans which disallowing benefits from the police fund. However, small concessions were made, as with the return of a lump sum of contributions to widows in the immediate aftermath of their husband’s deaths. Government made it mandatory for all policemen of retirement age to continue to work, postponing their pension payments until after the war, to maintain experienced police officer numbers. The police social conscience was seen in police philanthropy which continued into the war years, often undertaken by police wives or Special Constables. The police continued to maintain their links with wealthy and influential benefactors, who supported them in a number of ways and added to their public profile. Where disadvantage to individual policemen or families was seen, public sympathy was often raised and support voluntarily given.

References 1 Police, & c. (Miscellaneous Provisions) Bill. House of Lords Debates, 27 July 1916, vol 22 cc 967–973. 2 Robb, G. (2015) British Culture and the First World War. 2nd edition. London: Palgrave. 3 Police Constables (Naval and Military Service) Act, 1914. TNA MEP 2/7169. 4 The Police Review Police Law and Practice: Questions and Answers. 13102. ­Pensions – Return of Rateable Deductions. 12 June 1914, p. 278. 5 The Police Review, The Police and the War: The Widow’s Pension. 23 October 1914, p. 516. 6 The Police Review, The Posthumous Orphan. 20 November 1914, p. 563. 7 Letter from Sir Edward Henry to the Under Secretary of State, 30 March 2015. Metropolitan Police and National Defence. TNA MEPO 2/7205. 8 Police (Emergency Provisions) Act, 1915. TNA MEPO 2/7205. 9 Daily Debates, 26 October 1915. TNA HO 45/24678. 10 Home Office, Whitehall to the Clerk to the Standing Joint Committee, 21 ­August 1916. TNA MEPO 2/7205. 11 The Police Review, Pensioners: Past and Prospective. 18 June 1915, pp. 295–296. 12 TNA HO 45/10804/308966. 13 TNA Mepol. 5/118. Final Report of the Committee on Retrenchment in the Public Expenditure. Cd 8200, 1916. HMSO. 14 The Police Review, Imperial Parliament: House of Commons, 12 July. Time-­ Expired Police: Metro. 21 July 1916, p. 321. 15 Letter from Sir Edward Henry, Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police to the Under Secretary of State, 5 December 1916. TNA HO 45/24678. 16 Reply to Sir Edward Henry, 6 December 1916. TNA HO 45/24678. 17 The Police Review, Letters to the Editor. Time-­Expired Police: Metro. 9 ­February 1917, p. 42. 18 The Police Review, Letters to the Editor. Time-­Expired Police: Derby. 23 ­February 1917, p. 58. 19 The Police Review, Time-­Expired Police. Extra Pay in Borough Forces. County Forces. 13 July 1917, p. 222. 20 The Police Review, Letters to the Editor. Metro: Time-­Expired Police. 9 ­November 1917, p. 355. 21 Glasgow Herald, War Pensions and Allowances: Report of the Select Committee: More Generous Treatment. 3 February 1915, p. 11.

Pensions and philanthropy  133 22 The Police Review, Policemen and Soldiers: Widows and Children. 12 February 1915, p. 79. 23 See Hodge, J. M. & Garside, T. H. (1918) War Pensions and Allowances. London: Hodder and Stoughton, pp. 147–150. 24 The Police Review, Policemen and Soldiers: Widows and Children. 12 February 1915, p. 60. 25 Glasgow Herald, War Pensions: Select Committee’s Recommendations. 16 April 1915, p. 13. 26 The Police Review, Imperial Parliament. House of Commons, 14 March. Police with Colours: Widows. 17 March 1916, p. 121. 27 The Police Review, The Police and the War: Provision for the Widow. 14 January 1916, p. 20. 28 The Police Review, Pensions for Widows. 21 January 1916, p. 31. 29 The Police Review, Widows’ and Orphans’ Funds: Arrangements in Provincial Forces. 28 January 1916, pp. 43–44. 30 The Police Review, Edinburgh Police Widows’ and Orphans’ Fund: Steps to Meet Increased Demands. 11 February 1916, p. 64. 31 The Police Act, 1909. 5 (1). 32 The Police Review, Killed When On Duty. Allowances to Officers’ Children. 22 September 1916, p. 397. 33 The Police Review, Killed When On duty: Inadequate Compensation for Children of Bristol Inspector. 22 September 1916, p. 399. 34 The Police Review, Soldiers’ Widows and Police Pension Deductions. 18 February 1916, p. 79. 35 The Police Review, The New Police Legislation. Soldiers’ Widows and Police Pension Deductions. 23 June 1916, p. 293. 36 The Police Review, Soldiers’ Widows and Police Pension Deductions. 30 June 1916, p. 301. 37 The Police Review, Police, Etc. (Miscellaneous Provisions) Bill: The Committee Stage. House of Commons. 6 July 1916, pp. 318–319. 38 Police, Factories, & c. (Miscellaneous Provisions) Act, 1916. Section 2(2). TNA MEPO 2/7205. 39 The Police Review, 17 August 1917, p. 262. 40 The Police Review, Metropolitan and City Police Orphanage: The Prize Day. 3 July 1914, p. 320. 41 Police Constables (Naval and Military Service) Act, 1917, Section (3) made it possible for the police authority to make contributions to the orphanage from police funds. Letter dated 21 September 1917 to Boyd. TNA MEPO 2/7205. 42 The Police Review, Scholarships for Police Orphans. 13 December 1918, p. 397. 43 The Police Review, For Police Orphans: By George Robey. 8 June 1917, p. 180. 44 The Police Review, Northern Police Orphanage: Provincial Police Orphanage. 16 July 1915, p. 337. 45 The Police Review, Parade Gossip and Portsmouth Widows’ and Orphans’ Fund. 4 February 1916, p. 56. 46 The Police Review, News of Specials in brief. 9 February 1917, p. 44. 47 The Police Review, Stockport Police Charity. Entertainment in Aid of Poor ­Local Children. 10 July 1914, p. 329. 48 The Police Review, 8 January 1915, p. 1. 49 The Police Review, News of “Specials” In Brief. 23 February 1917, p. 64. 50 The Police Review, 12 November 1915, p. 539. 51 The Police Review, Parade Gossip. 17 December 1915, p. 602. 52 The Police Review, 7 January 1916, p. 9.

134  Pensions and philanthropy 53 The Police Review, Nottingham Wives’ Class: An Interesting Programme. 28 January 1916, p. 38. 54 The Police Review, Glasgow Police and War Charities. 23 February 1916, p. 93. 55 The Police Review, News of “Specials” in Brief. 17 August 1917, p. 262. 56 The Police Review, News of “Specials” in Brief. 25 February 1916, p. 93.

8 Conscription and the police

The discourse of serving King and Country in The Police Review developed from the outbreak of war. It portrayed the monarchy as representing Britishness, an important cultural force in the home front war effort, and a symbol of home, which the King promoted [1]. As the war progressed, the discourse in The Police Review portrayed the divisions between policemen of military age (originally up to 41 years) who were eligible to be called up. Some were seen by their Chief Constable as providing a good service and were retained at home, but those who were given permission to leave were suspected of being dispensable. This chapter shows the struggle between the police authorities to retain their best men and the continual pressure nationally by the army to encourage the release of fit men of military age; in this, the police faced similar challenges to other occupations seen as essential to the war effort at home. The discourse also split the male population into those who were of military age and those who were not. It showed the public being increasingly critical of men who resisted the call to serve King and Country; the police were not alone in being a target of such criticisms. Ironically, the police also were involved in checking certificates of men exempt from being called up as well as surprise round-ups at large public gatherings, such as football matches, to check certificates. In this, they were supporting the war effort, while those of military age who remained at home resisted their own call-up. Police forces around Britain were seen to undergo huge restructuring throughout the war in order to comply with increasing government pressure to release men of military age. However, by the end of the war, the police were looking to a time when their original structure, consisting of mainly regular policemen of strong stature, would return. Police Reservists were called up to serve in the army or navy from the day war was declared: 4 August 1914. A telegram to the Metropolitan Police at 7.22 pm on 4 August 1914 shows the urgency of the call: the men of the Army reserve called out on permanent service are to be relieved from duty forthwith in order that they may immediately comply with the mobilization order – they are to be shown on the morning state

136  Conscription and the police for the present as army reserve off pay the date to which they are entitled to pay being placed on the morning state when they leave 7.29 pm. [2] From this date and for the next 2 or 3 days, hundreds of policemen who were reservists and also those who volunteered in the early days of the war left the Metropolitan Police at a moment’s notice. This sudden call was reflected in all police forces around Britain.1 The alarm this caused the police is shown in a letter from the Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police to the Under Secretary of State: they lost 1,013 reservists at a stroke “re-called to the Colours” [3]. But according to Home Secretary Sir John Simon, Special Constables were recruited immediately after the outbreak of war, although police commanders were told not to enrol men of military age [4], showing government attempts at control of manpower in the Metropolitan Police. However, the Special Constables were seen as being of variable quality, being part-time and having other calls on their time as well as not being trained policemen, they were seen as less efficient than policemen, some forces saw them as “just filling the gaps”, which tended to segregate them from the main police force [5]. Also recruited in 1914 in many forces were Temporary Policemen, who were solely recruited for the period of the war and were sworn into the service [6]. The Police Review gave lists of the names of reservists and reports of the numbers of other regular policemen who had joined the army from many forces throughout Britain, for example, within 6 weeks of the start of the war. Bristol was reported to have lost 64 policemen as Army and Navy Reservists and 18 who had volunteered, saying the police force was contributing their share “to the service of King and Country” [7], implying that some other forces were not judged to be so praiseworthy. However, in Edinburgh, the Chief Constable was accused by Councillor Archbold of refusing to give permission for 62 men to enlist, and as a result, a number had resigned rather than gain his approval. The Chief Constable strenuously denied this slur on his character by his lack of support for serving King and Country; he gave a statement to The Scotsman appealing to readers that he had been fair in his treatment of the men. He said he had spoken to them personally and that they were treated similarly to other council employees and had not been refused the opportunity to volunteer, but he could only allow 20 men to be released at a time [8]. By the end of 1915, 206 policemen from Edinburgh were said to have joined the army, but the Chief Constable insisted he could not release any more, although all those of military age had enlisted under the Derby Scheme, Army Reserve B (see page 140 for details of the Derby Scheme; [9]). The initial national fervour to serve King and Country saw tensions arise very early in the war around resistance by men who were unwilling to volunteer. The Police Review quickly rebuffed any criticism of the police, as a group, being unwilling and therefore unpatriotic:

Conscription and the police  137 … the police of this country are well represented at the front, though they are scattered amongst the various regiments. … the Police of Great Britain have gone forth in their thousands, and have acquitted themselves nobly, as our pages relate. [10] The discourse of serving King and Country was strongly defended by the journal, pointing to this being the right thing to do for all policemen of military age (18–41 and single in 1914, although age and marital status would change as the war continued), encouraging voluntary recruitment. But to replace the men who had volunteered was difficult. Exeter reported that they could not recruit men of a suitable age and physical stature; in their desperation, they had to resort to recruiting men less suitable, with the result that some had to be asked to leave while others resigned due to the long hours and the nature of the work. This had repercussions for the remainder of the force who had been asked to work additional shifts [11]. Durham also published their criteria of body measurements to be a suitable police recruit and gave the rates of pay and other allowances [12]. With voluntary recruitment into the military falling by early 1915, as by this time the vast majority of men of military age chose not to volunteer [13], Asquith’s coalition government faced pressure for conscription to recruit sufficient men of military age into the army and navy [14]. Involvement of the police to boost recruitment in the male population was seen with a question in the House of Commons asking if they had been rooting out those who had so far evaded volunteering: Mr ROWLANDS asked the Under-Secretary of State for War whether he is aware that police constables are calling at houses in Kent inquiring for the names of male residents who are of military age, whether this practice is general over the country; and under what authority is the canvas being carried out? [15] The questioner was assured that the canvass was not being carried out under the authority of the War Office, which had no information on the subject. However, continued questions about police activity to recruit men for the army led to further accusations of the War Office involving the police which reached the national press. The Yorkshire Evening Post was reported to have published: At a recent meeting of the East Riding Standing Joint Committee Mr F. Smith asked what instructions had been given to the police with regard to obtaining recruits for the Army. Police Officers had visited the various farms, and in some cases lads under 16 had been persuaded to leave. The Chief Constable explained that the War Office had applied

138  Conscription and the police to him for the assistance of the Police in this matter, and he therefore gave them instructions that they should do so. The result, he stated, had been highly successful. A notion had gone abroad that the Police were receiving substantial remuneration. This was not so. They only received 1s. per man, and in many cases this was not taken, while, in other cases the 1s. did not recoup the Constable for out-of-pocket expenses. Showing that rumours of police involvement in recruiting volunteers into the army was viewed as harassment by the public as well as government desperation to compel enlistment by offering financial incentives to the police. This gave the police a very negative image, particularly by being seen to recruit underage, probably naïve boys. The journal made this known as a warning to other police forces of the negative impact of this kind of work on their reputation with the public [16]. Furthermore, the indiscriminate nature of voluntary recruitment and the desperation of the government to continue to recruit led to the portrayal that it was “drawing the life blood of our Agricultural districts & leaving the streets of some of our towns full as ever of stalwart loafers” [17], showing government rifts between those in favour of conscription and those who remained loyal to a system of voluntary recruitment; it was the build-up to a change of political position on how to obtain sufficient troops in the face of the large casualty rate, which gained momentum, particularly following the huge losses at the Loose offensive [18]. However, the police themselves were accused of enrolling single men of military age as Special Constables rather than encouraging them to volunteer to fight. This was raised in the House of Commons: … the Special Constabulary of the Metropolis contains a very large proportion of single men of military age; that in one squad numbering seventeen there are fourteen men of military age, seven married and seven unmarried; and if he (the Under Secretary of State for War) will take steps to see that all physically fit men of military age are discharged from this Force and men over forty substituted, of whom there are plenty willing to undertake the duties. The answer by Home Secretary Sir John Simon repeated the portrayal of the instructions given to commanders in September 1914 that they were not to enrol men as Special Constables who were of military age and fit for service. The questioner was assured that more than 5,000 Special Constables had joined the army, which was a continuing trend. Some in the squad referred to in the question were said to be medically unfit and others were employed in government work from which they could not be spared [19]. But, besides accusations in parliament of harbouring Special Constables, the police themselves were also accused by their colleagues of having recruited policemen of military age, branded in socially disapproving terms such as “shirkers”:

Conscription and the police  139 … shirkers in Cheshire, the Division I am in is full of them. Lord Kitchener has referred to a number of Special Constables that have joined, so as to avoid joining the Army. Young men have joined the Police to avoid joining the Army. … Why should the Police Authority allow Constables with Police experience to join the Army and allow young shirkers to remain at home: men of only three to nine months’ service … they would sooner have “Shirker” branded on their backs and carry it as long as they remain in the Police. [20] The level of hostility this created is evident in the large number of letters the journal received during mid-1915 on the issue, so many that it had to close the subject by stating it would not print any further letters. The journal strenuously defended its readers against accusations of harbouring shirkers, saying that out of a total police strength of 64,000 in Britain, 15,000 had already enlisted [21]. By late 1915, Special Constables were seen to be in large numbers in many forces, for example, in Hereford 78 had enrolled [22] and in Croydon there was a force of 400 by January 1916 [23]. However, with married as well as single men forced to withdraw from the Special Constabulary to sign up, it was even more difficult to recruit replacements. A question in the House of Commons showed the concern that some of their duties, such as patrol work, were portrayed as having to be abandoned, leaving public property without police protection, which was said to throw more work onto the regular police. Appeals were made that older married men in the Special Constabulary should be exempted from military service. But the Secretary of State confirmed that “the requirements of the fighting forces are more urgent than those of the Special Constabulary” and that these duties should not be a bar to their recruitment into the army [24], showing the continued priority of the army over civilian police work. This increased the competition between some forces to make public that they had released all their men of military age: The Sunderland Police Force and Fire Brigade now consists entirely of married men. All the single men have either enlisted directly or been called up in other ways. [25] They promoted themselves as being a good force by doing their duty to serve King and Country. Edinburgh also claimed that they had sent a larger proportion of their force than any other city in the empire, along with Carlisle who also stood out for merit in this way. But by mid-1915, with 75,000 men killed and the initial enthusiasm for volunteering beginning to fade [26], the government felt the urgent need for statistical information to identify all men and women between the ages

140  Conscription and the police of 15 and 65 years who remained in civilian life, as recruitment for the army had fallen dramatically and different sets of figures were being used by the Board of Trade and the War Office to determine the future of trade and the size of the army [27]. The National Registration Act [28] passed on 15 July 1915 aimed at holding a register of all civilians for the duration of the war; it collected data on marital status, address, date of birth, number of dependents, current employment and whether he (sic) had other skills than his current job. The register was implemented by Walter Long, President of the Local Government Board, and required forms to be delivered, collected and checked from each house and public notices to be displayed of where these forms could be obtained. The information graded and categorised all those eligible to register according to whether they were single or married, by their occupation and date of birth. Everyone who registered was issued with a certificate of registration, with the requirement to complete a further certificate if they changed address. A fine of £5 could be imposed for refusing to register, which gave the police further work to ensure everyone eligible to register held a certificate of registration. The results were transferred to card indexes and made available to all relevant government departments. The register, based on 90% returns (those not eligible to register were prisoners, “lunatics” or “defectives,” inmates of poor law institutions or prisoners of war), estimated that there was in excess of 4,385,000 men of military age in England and Wales, of which 2,720,000 should be reserved for industrial requirements at home and 251,500 were physically unfit to fight [29]; a further 150,000 men were available in Scotland [30]. Despite the register, controversy and lack of coordination continued between government departments on the demands for manpower, particularly between the War Office and the Board of Trade [31]. The results of the National Register were subsequently linked to military recruitment. In October 1915, Edward Stanley, Earl of Derby, was appointed Director of Recruiting, initiating the scheme (also known as the Derby Scheme) to secure pledges from all men, both single and married, between the ages of 18 and 40 that they would join the army when called upon to do so [32]. A further classification was developed: men who attested under the Derby Scheme could defer their army service and were classified Class A (over 2 million chose this option); those who agreed to join the army immediately were Class B (215,000 joined immediately). Men in Class A were grouped and graded into 23 classes, with the younger single men being called up first and no married men called until all single men had been enlisted [33]. However, over a third of the single and more than half of the married men avoided recruitment when called, portraying the Derby Scheme as a failure as far as recruitment into the army was concerned. As a result, the Home Office wrote to all Chief Constables in December 1915 (the first call up date under the Derby Scheme), which was picked up by the Birmingham Watch Committee:

Conscription and the police  141 You will have seen from the War Office statement in the press regarding the procedure for calling up groups 2, 3, 4 and 52 that a personal notice will be posted early in January to the men attested in these four groups telling them when to present themselves. There will be no occasion for any claims for postponement to be made to the local tribunal in the case of attested Policemen, as, under the arrangements referred to in our circular of the 7th inst., notices are not to be sent to Constables unless and until the consent of the Chief Constable has been obtained. If a notice should be sent by mistake to a Constable who cannot be spared the Chief Constable should return the notice at once to the recruiting officer who issued it, with a certificate that the man is indispensable. [34] This showed the Watch Committee’s portrayal of their concerns that they would lose more policemen in a way that did not necessarily suit the needs of the service; they were said to be somewhat comforted that they could manage the release through the Chief Constable, as the police were given the status of a starred occupation (a protected, high or scarce skilled job under the Derby Scheme) and the Chief Constable would have a system of identifying which men could be “spared” and which could not. But this differentiation caused huge competition and later caused enmity between individual men in most forces, as some felt more valued in their job than others. Indeed, the Watch Committees had cause for concern, as by the end of the first year of the war around one in five policemen from the provincial forces had joined the army and depletion in the Metropolitan Police was even larger at just over a quarter. Periodic trawls of the police for men for the navy and particularly the army continued throughout the war [35]. The journal confirmed its view that both Special Constables and regular policemen could only be released with the agreement of the Chief Constable, in answer to a question posed by a reader concerned at the possibility of being called up: It is recognised, however, that a certain minimum number of Constables are necessary to the maintenance of public order and for the discharge of the various duties devolving upon the Police. The recruiting authorities for any district are, therefore, extremely unlikely to take steps to call up any Constables now engaged on Police Service … without consulting the Police authorities as to the propriety of so doing. If such action were taken, and Constables, ordinary or special, were called up in groups, the Chief Constable is, of course, fully entitled to appeal on their behalf, and there would have to be very serious reason for ignoring such an appeal. [36] This was likely to reassure those of military age who remained at home and resisted the call to volunteer to fight that when they were called up, their

142  Conscription and the police Chief Constable would save them, provided they were seen by him to be useful to the force. This would likely reduce levels of challenge to superior officers and would tend to create docile bodies in these men. Indeed, the Derby Scheme was seen by Kitchener not to provide sufficient men for the army, as 650,000 unmarried men across Great Britain failed to attest. In this, he agreed with the Unionist politicians that compulsion was needed to obtain sufficient men for the army, which would need legislation [37]. But some policemen in the Metropolitan Force, in particular, wanted to conform to the call to serve King and Country and could not wait for their Chief Constable’s agreement; they sought to demand their release, which prompted a question in the House of Commons about the effects this would have on their pension and re-employment after the war. The answer tended to tie policemen who valued their work in the police and the benefits associated with it, such as allowances for boots, free housing and benefits to their wife and dependents while they were away, to the force until they were given permission to leave: Mr. SAMUEL: Any member of the Metropolitan Police Force may resign the Police Service on giving a month’s notice of his intention to do so, but a man so resigning to join the Army is not entitled to any special benefits enjoyed by Constables who join His Majesty’s Services with the consent of the Police Authority. If on conclusion of the war such a man were permitted to rejoin, his previous service would count towards pension, as provided for in the Police Act; but no pledge can be given as to allowances. [38] This statement also shows that not everyone who wished to may be welcome to rejoin the police and so would serve to weed out officers who were said to be less good at their job. The Police Review enforced this by saying that “they (Constables who return from the war and are fit for service) can only be readmitted if they enlisted with the consent of the Police Authority” [39]. Indeed, in Devon and Cornwall, a few policemen resigned during the war without the consent of their Chief Constable only to find that they were not accepted by the Army on medical grounds and then failed to be able to rejoin the police force, providing a memorable example to others considering a similar course of action [40]. This shows the restrictions on policemen by their job at both national and local levels. As the need for Special Constables increased, some forces experienced tension between the regular police and the Special Constables. In Manchester, a minority of Special Constables were agitating for financial recognition for their services, which reached the local press. Their claims were portrayed by the majority as not in the spirit of volunteering, which should be “an honour to be of assistance to the city.” Volunteers also regretted that their services may have delayed the regular force from receiving an increase

Conscription and the police  143 in their pay and supported their claims by demanding that the Watch Committee pay this immediately [41]. The question of whether Special Constables should be compensated for the loss of their time, implying it was not given entirely willingly, was also raised by a Fife Councillor; the response was to endeavour to find more public spirited men, although the matter was brought to the attention of the Standing Joint Committee [42]. However, these two cases were unusual; every other location was seen as highly valuing their Special Constables, some went to considerable lengths to praise their services and to reward them with gifts and special occasions, such as dinners. But helping Special Constables to offset some of their expenses rose in importance in some forces in late 1917, when Denbighshire Standing Joint Committee was seen to give an allowance of 3 shillings per month towards the cost of boots and flashlights [43]. Following the Derby Scheme’s ineffectual recruitment of men for the army and with a change of Prime Minister, further efforts to recruit were seen in the Military Service Act, 1916, which confirmed the age range at between 19 and 41 on 15 August 1915 and of either unmarried or widowed men without dependent children. The Act became law on Thursday, 2 March 1916 [44]. From May 1916, the criteria extended to all men aged between 19 and 41 whether single or married. It was the first Act to effect conscription of soldiers and sailors into the war and gave a more organised approach to recruiting. The Act also set up a system of local tribunals for exemption from military service; successful applicants were given a certificate of exemption. The Police Review explained to its readers: … from and after … March 2nd (1916) every British male subject between the ages of 18 and 41, ordinarily resident in Great Britain, who was single on November 2nd last, is to be deemed to have been duly enlisted in His Majesty’s regular forces for general service with the colours, or in the reserve for the period of the war, and to have been forthwith transferred to the reserve. [45] Although the journal told its readers there were six categories of exemption, which included men with certificates of exemption or those rejected by the army or navy, the police were not specifically an exempted group. However, the journal schooled its readers in how to gain a certificate of exemption either by making an individual application through the Chief Constable to a local tribunal that the applicant’s work was in the national interest, or by a government department which may issue certificates of exemption to a body of men where they were seen in work of national importance and as such could not be released, but the latter was said to be doubtful in the case of the police. The former case of individual application was said to be the most likely to succeed on grounds that serious hardship would result due to the applicant’s “exceptional financial obligations or domestic position”

144  Conscription and the police (italics supplied). An example was given of an only son who supported his widowed mother or of a conscientious objector who was a member of the Society of Friends. Indeed, from March 1916, The Police Review published the names of policemen and police forces who had their applications to tribunals accepted. For example, in Fife, three Constables received a month’s exemption; Greenock saw a Sergeant and 32 Constables exempted. Both cases were similarly made – that the police were so depleted in numbers that no more could be released [46]. Tribunals also occasionally helped the police to boost manpower, as Hornsey Tribunal was seen to impose a condition on a man to whom they gave an exemption – that he should join the Special Constabulary [47]. But by mid-1916, individual cases became scrutinised in more detail in some areas making them more difficult to justify; in Aberdeenshire, a protest erupted about a request for a village constable to be exempted, the Chief Constable made the case that more than 25% of the Force had joined the military and of the remainder, many were being called upon to defend naval and military establishments [48]. The journal continued to tell regular policemen that if they obtained a certificate of exemption as a result of their Chief Constable declaring them to be essential to the service, this would still be honoured by the government’s Man-Power Distribution Board, set up in August 1916, and that they would not be liable for military service [49] despite the Distribution Board’s remit to “comb out” fit young men to make them available. Furthermore, Military Recruiting Officers were also told by the War Office to encourage substitution of fit young men by those less fit, in order to release more of the former for the army [50]. This tension between service needs and the needs of the army also characterised negotiations with the trades unions, as under the Trade Card Scheme the unions were allowed to choose which men to release for the army [51]. Special Constables in the Metropolitan Police were also given exemption from military service in large numbers if they were Sub-Inspectors or above or if they held responsible positions in the Force or were married and over 35 years of age [52]. Nationally, the number of applications to tribunals for exemption from men in all forms of work was huge and increased dramatically. By February 1916, there were huge backlogs of cases waiting to be heard. Britain set up 1,800 local tribunals and it was rare for a man not to make an application, at least for temporary exemption [53]. By the end of 1916, in the Metropolitan Police, in particular, this led to attacks by the public on police exemptions which were made public in the House of Commons: MR. BILLING asked the Home Secretary whether his attention has been drawn to the recent attacks on the Police on account of their exemption from military service. [54]

Conscription and the police  145 Public scorn was recounted for those not signing up as they were said to be resisting the call to serve King and Country. This was particularly seen in the Army Council instruction in November 1916, which called up all Special Constables fit for service and stationed at home [55]. The considerable public pressure on the police led Home Secretary Herbert Samuel to withdraw certificates of exemption from 300 Special Constables out of a reputed force of 2,000 in the Metropolitan Police by placing them in Category C1 (garrison service at home; [56]). However, public pressure for harbouring Special Constables of military age continued unabated. A case brought before the Marylebone Magistrates shows the behaviour of some women towards young uniformed police in the streets: the Magistrate warned her to be careful in future how she chaffed Constables while on duty, otherwise she would find herself in custody again. The Constable told the Court that the woman accosted him with the remark: “Why aren’t you in the Army? A young man like you ought to be ashamed of yourself going about in a Policemen’s uniform.” He ordered her off but she replied that she was not afraid of him, and in the presence of a large crowd she repeated that he ought to be ashamed of himself, and used bad language. [57] However, the woman’s behaviour was not accepted by the Magistrate, as press articles of women using strong language in public was a sign of moral decline at the end of 1916 [58]. She was warned it could result in segregating her from society by locking her up if she persisted, showing local control in support of the police. However, a further question in the House of Commons in February 1917 about release of policemen highlighted Surrey as receiving adverse comments, which led the Windlesham Tribunal to pass a resolution of condemnation that young fit policemen were not being released and reported them to the War Office. This further pressurised the Chief Constable to release men of military age, although he claimed to have already released “a large proportion of his Force.” The War Cabinet was portrayed as directly intervening, in February 1917, by sending instructions to call up all policemen fit for service and under 22 years of age [59]. The call was seen to have an effect, but further challenges arose in the House of Commons on 23 May 1917 which identified the police as still harbouring thousands of men of military age. The reply by the War Office portrayed a further centrally controlled release, this time of those who had become unfit but should now be re-examined for release to the army under the Military Service (Review of Exceptions) Act [60]. This call-up of additional policemen was said not to endanger public safety, although it was acknowledged that “the responsibilities placed on the police are greatly increased during war-time” [61].

146  Conscription and the police By 1917, it had become more difficult for all men of military age to obtain a certificate of exemption and the effects of Home Office control of police numbers was seen at the Weybridge Tribunal, where the Chief Constable appealed for a 25-year-old constable to be retained as he was “indispensable.” He confirmed that the Home Office had agreed the strength of the constabulary, below which it would be detrimental to the national interest; Special Constables were only partially replacing his men, as they too were being conscripted. The Tribunal Chairman talked of the pressure they were under not to provide exemption certificates, as they were bound to review all exemptions under 31 years of age; he left the decision in this case to the Police Authority [62]. The direct intervention of the Home Office in the release of policemen was also seen in Rotherham at the Borough Tribunal in late 1917, where the case for 48 policemen was considered. The Chief Constable said he had received a letter from the Home Secretary confirming that no more men could be released, which was endorsed by a telegram to a military representative [63]. But continuing questions to the journal from individual police officers used it as a source of support to remain at home. In mid1917, one questioner asked whether civilian policemen could be compelled to join the army. He was told that the Military Service Act 1916 confirmed all citizens of military age who were physically fit were compelled to undertake military service; however, policemen could not be called up without reference to the police authorities, and in this sense, they were a “starred” occupation under the Derby Scheme [64]. However, continual nibbling away at the starred occupations for recruitment into the army gave less and less security to young fit policemen that they would not have their exemptions cancelled and be called up. Cassar shows how Lloyd George realised by mid-1917 that, despite the efforts of the Manpower Distribution Board, civilian departments, particularly munitions and labour, refused to agree to the gradual cancellation of certificates of exemption from all men up to 31 years of age to provide sufficient men for the army. It was also not possible to have a system of civilian compulsion of men into the workplace in vital war industries because of labour opposition [65]. Furthermore, the Auckland Geddes Manpower report of October 1917 showed that there were only around 250,000 men of military age of Grade A fitness suitable for the army; the only other options for army recruitment were to raise the age range and to extend military compulsion to Ireland [66]. It was not only the public who scorned young, single men remaining in the police, the Chairman of the Chertsey Rural Tribunal criticised the Chief Constable of Surrey for appealing against the withdrawal of a certificate of exemption from a 30-year-old single policeman, saying his force was now reduced below the minimum, being 80 under-strength. The Chairman said that there was practically no crime in the country districts and the police seemed to be merely looking after lights and bicycles. However, the criticism was disallowed by the higher authority of the Surrey Tribunal, the Chairman of which said the public did not understand the important war service

Conscription and the police  147 the police had to perform, showing the tensions that existed between the different levels of tribunals. But by the end of 1916, tensions also arose between the Watch and the Standing Joint Committees with their Chief Constables about the loss of men to the army. Both Liverpool and Worcester Committees reviewed the number of policemen available compared with those who had left to fight. In Liverpool it was agreed that police band performances would cease and the bandsmen be used solely for police work. In Worcester, the Chief Constable was asked not only about the strength of the force and how many had left to fight, but also what control the Home Office had over the numbers. The Chief Constable replied that the Home Office controlled the grant paid to the police, which determined the strength of the force [67]. Ironically, further work for the police was seen with compulsory registration under the National Registration Act, 1915, combined with the 1916 Military Service Act in checking certificates. The police were told: Every man who holds a certificate of exemption under the principal Act shall, if required by a Police Constable or any person who has authority for the purpose from the Army Council, produce his certificate or give particulars as to the authority by which the certificate was granted, and the grounds on which it was granted. If any man fails to comply with this provision, or gives particulars which are false in any material respect, he shall in respect of each offence be liable on summary conviction to a fine not exceeding £20, or to imprisonment for a term not exceeding three months. [68] A heavy penalty indeed for such an offence! The inspection of certificates of registration under the Derby Scheme caused further questions to the journal about interpretation. It confirmed that, although an individual did not need to carry his certificate of registration with him, the police could visit his home and require him to produce it and to take copies of certificates from any other male members of the household of military age, according to the regulations issued on 30 March 1916 [69]. Men without a certificate of exemption were required to report which, it was anticipated, would require the police to apprehend those who failed to do so; they could be brought before a Court of Summary Jurisdiction as deserters under the Reserve Forces Act, 1882. In such cases, the journal reminded its readers that considerable tact would be required to avoid disturbance and hostility if neighbours intervened. This was further confirmed in the Military Services Act, 1916 (Session 2), where the police were advised that Section 10 enabled a Constable to demand a man to produce his certificate of exemption or to give its details [70]. But in mid-1916, with the heavy losses at the Somme [71], the demand for more recruits into the army was dramatically increased, enabling many

148  Conscription and the police police forces to devise surprise means of capturing elusive men where they were gathered together. On some occasions, the secret was leaked, and the police were met with draconian tactics when they attempted to enforce the law: Detectives who took part in a round-up at a seaside theatre the other week were neatly bluffed. Men with fixed bayonets were posted at the stage door, and the officers burst into the dressing rooms in search of shirkers. [72] Showing the immense hostility between those determined not to enlist in the war and the police when they attempted to enforce the laws, the former developed support for their cause from like-minded people and were seen to make every effort to resist government pressure to serve King and Country. In the same month, other police forces, for example, Truro City Police, had more success in capturing resisters when they attended a film show: At the conclusion of the film the Chief Constable told all men to remain in their seats; all the doors were locked and every man interviewed to establish whether he was registered for conscription. [73] Indeed, similar raids were carried out nationwide, as Frank Lockwood of Yorkshire writes in his diary dated 2 September 1916: During the past week or so, the police have been conducting systematic roundups of shirkers, laggards and slackers, as the papers call them. Theatres, Music Halls, Parks, Football Matches etc. have all come in for their share. [74] A letter from the Local Government Board dated 26 August 1916 endorsed these tactics [75]. But they would cause not only unpleasantness for the victims but also huge public resentment, particularly when the police were themselves accused of retaining many men of military age. The continued call-up of men of fighting age seen in the Home Secretary’s instructions to tribunals to review and cancel all exemptions of men under 31 years of age, who were not in occupations defined as essential war work (the police were not so defined; [76]), saw police forces becoming even more desperate to maintain their numbers either by Special Constables or by regular policemen, including temporary policemen. Reigate’s crisis was portrayed in The Police Review in early 1917, when the Borough Magistrates considered whether they should ask the Chief Magistrate to make a public appeal for Special Constables which would involve pressurising men to undertake this service, “unless the sections can be brought up to the minimum

Conscription and the police  149 strength it will be necessary to take steps to impress men for the service” [77]. Indeed, a similar situation was seen at Highgate Police Court, where it was claimed so many additional duties had been placed on the police that it was impossible for them to carry out the work without additional help from Special Constables; an example of additional work was seen when the police were asked to distribute and collect forms from all farmers with holdings of five acres or more for the Agricultural Census of 15 November 1916 [78]. A wide range of other additional duties since the start of the war included listing the number of Belgian refugees, encouraging army recruitment, enforcing the blackout and ensuring soldiers and sailors on leave reported to their district on arrival [79], and also investigating women in receipt of the separation allowance who were said to be in breach of their entitlement (see Chapter 3), and unrest due to food shortages and morality policing. If Special Constables did not come forward, it was possible that the Bench had powers to compel men to join. The journal confirmed this was possible under the Special Constables Act 1831, which … gives power to justices, if they are of opinion that “any tumult, riot, or felony” is apprehended, are authorised to secure the preservation of the peace and the protection of property by appointing an adequate number of householders to act as Special Constables. [80] If a man failed to serve, under the Act he could be fined £5. However, Magistrates did not wish to use their powers to compel men to join the Special Constabulary, saying that they should be volunteers, although in some locations, such as Sheffield, tribunals were seen to order men to join the Special Constabulary, which was said to negatively impact on the nature of the Special Constabulary [81]. But in many locations, the Special Constabulary were up to strength; in London, they numbered 20,000 with more than 1,000 in reserve [82]. An appeal in Manchester also recruited 6,300 by August 1917, establishing a force of 12,000 Special Constables allowing Manchester to release 700 regular policemen for the army [83]. By the end of 1917, according to His Majesty’s Inspector of Constabulary’s report, 118,332 Special Constables were available for service throughout Britain, with a daily average of 9,092 [84]. By mid-1917, the publication of Lord Rhondda’s Committee Report gave the Army Council’s needs for fit young men in protected industries, bringing the police under renewed pressure, as they were identified as one of the groups who could release a quarter of their target each month, given as 1,000 men, provided there was an adequate supply of competent substitutes, suggesting older men, to be accompanied by a “vigorous combing-out of younger men” [85]. The rising pressure to release temporary policemen led some Town Councils to pressurise their Watch Committees and police forces severely to release single men of military age to

150  Conscription and the police serve King and Country, as was seen in Rochdale, which was said to have a bad reputation with the police and the public alike for holding onto young fit men: COUNCILLOR WILSON criticised the retention of temporary Police Officers in the Force, and said the fact that there were twelve such was a scandal that ought not to be tolerated. [86] These officers were portrayed as resisting call-up by using the police as a “funk hole” to hide, which infuriated many regular policemen by saying openly that they would leave the police once the war was over. This practice was reputed to be well known in other locations too, with a police wife saying she had heard young temporary policemen boast that they had “only joined the police to escape military service” while her husband had already served for more than 3 years [87]. The journal also published, on several occasions, the views of different policemen home on leave from the war who saw younger, single men still working in the police in an attempt to make this practice known and to shame them and others in a similar position. It also made known the locations that were notorious for recruiting men of military age into the police: Mr Wilson hoped the Watch Committee would say to every temporary Police Officer of military age, “Your services are dispensed with.” The men are not indispensable, and Rochdale ought to be the last town to provide such men with “funk holes.” [88] Other forces were held up as good examples, where it was said that the Chief Constable had declined to recruit any temporary officers to fill the places of those who had left to serve King and Country, implying that they were more patriotic. But as the war continued into early 1918, these measures were seen as insufficient to recruit the number of men needed to fight, and the government further developed “combing out.” The Police Review pleaded that the younger men still retained in the police should now “very properly be allowed to take their share of the fighting,” imploring that this was right and proper for everyone: in a life and death struggle of this magnitude and duration, the whole manhood – and womanhood – of the nation is in honour and duty bound to take its full share of the burden and the risk. In this, the great crisis of the conflict, the only way which we, as a people, can possibly win through is by the hard and rugged path of universal and equal sacrifice, from which none can stand excused. [89]

Conscription and the police  151 This appealed not only to their sense of serving King and Country as a duty along with everyone else, to which those who resisted would be seen as social outcasts if they failed to respond, but also more personally by attacking their manhood. By mid-1918, it had also become a more personalised attack on the Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police and his senior officers’ communication with their policemen about release of regular and Special Constables. A letter to the journal showed the animosity between different men and with their senior officers: May I make a suggestion which the men in general agree with? (1) Release all young and fit men who are sheltering beneath the badges and uniforms of the Special Constabulary. There are plenty of them who are not on work of national importance but whose main consideration is their own business. (2) Release all single men in the Force who are fit to pass the medical examination for Army service. (3) Release the married men as occasion demands, either according to their age, or Police service, … having due regard to exceptional duties or domestic affairs. [90] But this way of releasing men to serve King and Country was not agreed by all in the Metropolitan Police. The speech in the House of Commons by Auckland Geddes, Director of National Service, had opened up a discourse on how the cancellation of certificates of exemption should be prioritised: We require a system of recruitment based on occupation, conditioned by age, and if you will, marital state …. Under it, if we obtain the powers for which we now ask, we shall be able to proceed with recruiting on an easily understood system of clear cuts by age, by occupation. [91] Other letters to the journal took up this discourse, portraying the argument that release should be determined by length of police service, with those who joined most recently being released first, rather than by age – the older officers who had joined the police only since the war began, again being accused of doing so to evade military service. The Police Review pleaded that any individual refused permission to leave on the grounds of having special skills and, so being indispensable, did not imply favouritism, influence or favour. Furthermore, those released should not feel it was a penalty for insubordination. But to be able to demonstrate this to policemen and the public alike required a plan which was understood by everyone; at this stage of the war, release should not be seen as arbitrary, as feelings were running very high [92]. The journal continued to appeal for fairness on a weekly basis: we have grounds for hoping that all further enlistments among the Police will be according to rule or principle, e.g. the men joining the Force

152  Conscription and the police in 1913, 1911, 1909, and so on, will be called up as they are required. If this is done, and the process of selection is carried through in a fair and impartial manner, we feel sure that our correspondent will have small cause to suggest that we ought to “give a few hints (to the shirkers) that their services are needed in the Army more than in the Police.” It warned that if this was carried through in a fair and unbiased way, then the “shirkers” would accept that they were needed more in the army than in the police, implying that the system needed to be seen to be fair to all, while King and Country must be served by men of 18–51 whether married or single, by being in the army. But it supported the Metropolitan Commissioner’s decisions to retain certain young men as needed for the maintenance of civil order, the prevention and detection of crime and the protection of life and property [93]. The fierce and growing attacks on young men retained in the police and the attempts to make them known continued to be shown by letters published in the journal from those who had returned home on leave after a period of army service. They lambasted their former colleagues for their lack of willingness to serve and for using the police as a safe haven, which showed the increasing bitterness towards resisters: I always considered my Police comrades a patriotic body of men, but I am quite satisfied that I am now mistaken. It is very nice to publish figures showing that there are 7,000 Metro. Policemen on Naval and Military Service, but I do not consider that should be used to cover the fact at least five to six thousand strong, able-bodied men under 35 are hiding behind the blue clothes in the Metropolis, and quite a thousand of these men joined the Force since 1914. [94] This letter portrays that failure to join the army disgraced the Metropolitan Police and other forces in the eyes of the nation, where men of military age continued to be employed. The disgust expressed is also shown to conscientious objectors, labelled “Conchies,” who were said to be ostracised by men, previously their colleagues, who had signed up to serve King and Country [95]. This discourse in the police followed the War Cabinet’s agreement on 25 March 1918 that the crisis of the war in France needed further urgent manpower reinforcements – relaxation of eyesight tests, the removal of men from Irish garrisons, the transfer of conscientious objectors to France and ministers of religion being eligible for military service were all agreed [96]. This was the precursor to the Military Services (No 2) Act, discussed at length by Cabinet since the beginning of 1918. Problems of maintaining a civilian police force were made even more difficult in 1918. A memorandum from the War Office dated 22 January portrayed the latest urgency they attached to renewed recruitment into the army:

Conscription and the police  153 Sir, – I am commanded by the Army council to inform you that it is of the greatest importance that the following urgent demand for men should be met with as little delay as possible. Royal Garrison Artillery 9,000 at once. Army Service Corps. (Mechanical Transport) 3,000 at once, and an additional 3,000 during the next two or three months A similar number of men are now actively employed in home defence and in administrative duties at home and they must be relieved to meet demands for men of these arms for Overseas. [97] The army was seen as willing to accept men up to 50 years of age and to widen the range of fitness to include men in Grade 2 (able to walk five miles to and from work, see and hear sufficiently for ordinary purposes) from 2 May 1918 under the Military Services (No 2) Act [98,99] said to be a national emergency to give a final push in the war effort. It was combined with the withdrawal of certificates of exemption from military service on occupational grounds from men over 36 years of age, who were previously categorised as unfit or worked in certain occupations ([100,101,102,103]; Military Service Act 19183; [104]), making it increasingly difficult for Chief Constables and Watch and Standing Joint Committees to sustain applications for exemption from a Tribunal, so that even more regular and Special Constables were called up. As Emsley shows [105], removal of certificates of exemption angered policemen, as it made them more liable to be combed out, even if their job was protected. Combing out of the police was feared by The Police Review to impact very negatively on the number of police available [106], resulting in increased efforts by Chief Constables to retain their Special Constables. The Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police received agreement from the Local Government Board for exemptions from military training for Special Constables who performed satisfactorily [107]. In Manchester, the police authorities and the Chief Constable agreed that Special Constables in military grades 2 and 3 (only suitable for sedentary work) would be exempted from military service, provided their exemption was recommended by the Chief Constable and they were over 35 years of age. These exemptions could only be granted for 6 months followed by a review by the Chief Constable, after which a further similar length of exemption could be granted, if recommended [108]. Exemptions were also granted in Blackpool, where the Chief Constable communicated directly with the Director of National Service and received the reply: Special Constables who were serving as such on January 1st 1918, over 35 years of age on that date, and in Grade 3 (Service at Home), are not,

154  Conscription and the police so long as they perform their duties to the satisfaction of the Chief Constable, to be called up. [109] These reassurances would have given other forces a lead in how to maintain their numbers in the face of the portrayal of relentless and increasingly all-embracing calls at national level by the War Office for men to fight; as Grieves shows in January 1918, the Cabinet Committee on Man-Power looked to a more efficient use of the home front, particularly concentrating on shipbuilding, and coal and food production, rather than huge numbers being recruited into the army [110]. Although dissatisfaction continued in the police, the threat to regular and special constables up to 51 years of age of not having their certificate of exemption from military service renewed could have been a reason that the police strike was limited to the Metropolitan Police with Manchester Police threatening strike action, while other forces remained at work until after the war ended. In addition to the problems of combing out, some of the original Special Constables, recruited at the start of the war, were reported to be discontent; they resented the increased militarisation and formality with the introduction of uniforms and increased drill and discipline, which they said changed the nature of the job. The Sheffield Telegraph picked up this dissent, particularly amongst the men who had been ordered by tribunals to join the police; the journal feared the force would lose its “old timers” [111]. Furthermore, the strain on the policemen of retirement age who had been compelled to continue to work under the Police (Emergency Provisions) Act, 1915, by withdrawing their pensions until after the war, was seen in Hastings, where time-expired policemen were said to be expected to work 12-hour shifts alternating day and night duties with no time off for meals and 1 day off in 14. This made a number of these men’s health break down ([112]; see also the retention of police officers beyond retirement age due to The Police [Emergency Provisions] Act, 1915, in Chapter 7). The case of lighter work for time-expired police had been taken up earlier by The Police Review pleading that “A Scotland Yard authority” said: When a man has done 25 years as a London Constable he has been pretty well used up by injury and exposure, and he, … deserves well of employers who have light work to give. [113] Portrayed as under intense and continuing pressure to keep their police forces up to strength, in January 1918 under instructions from the Local Government Board, all men between 18 and 51 years of age automatically became members of the volunteer force with the requirement to undergo military training up to 12 hours per week amounting to one or two drills or route marches; this gave a further time commitment for the Special

Conscription and the police  155 Constables away from their businesses, in addition to their work with the police. This led to speculation that many would leave the police or curtail their hours, further depleting their numbers, as well as preventing others from joining. In order to keep them in the police, a suggestion was made that payment may help to retain their services: the State is … not a thankless taskmaster, demanding services without reward, and it is difficult to justify the extra call which it is now urgently necessary to make on the services of Special Constables without compensation offered. … there must be many thousands among our Specials to whom this consideration would be very welcome. [114] This showed the desperation of the police to retain the Special Constables in the face of so many competing alternatives for the use of their time outside their business, such as the national effort to support home-grown crops by growing vegetables on allotments. Excluded from military training were those declared medically unfit for active service, in which case they should “undertake some other form of public service, such as service with the Special Constabulary” [115]. Although increasing the numbers of Special Constables, this portrayed them as comprising some unfit men, unable to undertake strenuous work, such as on the beat, which was likely to have been a trend since 1916. However, work as a Special Constable was also said to improve a man’s health! Following the call-up of men previously categorised as unfit, Birmingham police claimed that they had enabled recovery: The value from a health point of view of membership of the Birmingham Special Constabulary was demonstrated in a case before Birmingham local Tribunal last week. A stationer, aged 38, was formerly exempt from military service as a Special Constable, passed C3. Since joining the Force, however, he had been raised to Grade 2, and was, therefore, no longer protected. [116] Men from munitions factories as well as Category B men (less fit or only fit for sedentary work) were being drafted to the Western Front during mid1918 following medical re-examination and in some cases national programmes of fitness training [117]. But by mid-June 1918, the regular police began to appear less in need of Special Constables, they began to assert their authority, with the sense that the end of the war was in sight. They claimed that during the war, Special Constables were in far larger numbers than the regular police and that, good and necessary as they were and had been, the regular police were the mainstay who, with their training and experience, were much more efficient, so that “the depletion of the Regular Police Forces of the country could not

156  Conscription and the police really be made good by the enrolment of Specials,” who diluted the regular police but were necessary during the national crisis of the war. The journal was sure the Specials would agree with these sentiments, saying the involvement of Specials in the police had raised the opinion of the public of the nature and onerous character of policing work, which, now that it was better known and understood from the inside would filter out to the public at large and would likely improve the status and pay of the regular police in the future [118]. By mid-November, when the discourse of demobilisation emerged, many of the time-expired, Special and Temporary Constables employed during the war were finally told that they were no longer needed and to prepare for their imminent return to a life outside the police, when regular police officers returned from the war to take up their posts: … those who have posts waiting for them will be the first to be released. As this rule, if it is adopted, will apply to the great majority of Constables now with the Colours, we may reasonably expect that the Police will be amongst the first to be allowed to return to their civil occupations. [119] Those who obtained permission from their Chief Constable to be recruited into the army were given assurances that their jobs would be kept open for them on their return from the war. Their return was eagerly awaited by the regular police at home. In conclusion, the discourse of serving King and Country showed the increasing demands by the War Office for men to fight, particularly at times when there were huge casualties in battle; this led to increasing calls on all men to join the army or navy. This chapter has shown how some policemen were portrayed as very willing to fight, and so to answer the call of King and Country, and were easily recruited early in the war. This led to the police adopting methods to keep their forces up to strength so that they could protect life and property on the home front on behalf of King and Country by part-time Special Constables, Temporary Policemen recruited for the period of the war only, time-expired policemen and those who were given exemptions by tribunals on condition that they joined the Special Constabulary. Later in the war, men who were not accepted by the army as being unfit also provided substitutes for the release of more policemen of military age. This change in the structure of police forces would have seen fewer policemen able to undertake heavy work, such as being on the beat in all weathers. Furthermore, the pressure by the public on police authorities and Chief Constables to release men of military age grew with the desperation of the nation to win the war. The police, as part of a bureaucratic structure increasingly answerable to the Home Office, were accused of harbouring men of military age who were unwilling to fight, bringing them and their police forces into disrepute. These men who remained at home would have been very keen to please their Chief Constable by being seen as undertaking work of national

Conscription and the police  157 importance, so that he would continue to apply for their exemption from military service. This created tensions in the police, as some gained an exemption from a tribunal, while others were allowed to be released into the army, raising issues of favouritism and showing war weariness by 1917. A balance needed to be struck between public protection and public order and ensuring that the public supported the structure of each police force in the face of growing public discontent from 1917 onwards with the war weariness and strikes in some key industries that developed. The discourse of serving King and Country was seen increasingly in the police as keeping the peace on the home front.

Notes 1 I am grateful to Mark Rothwell for information that in Devon and Cornwall police reservists and early volunteers left for the army or navy only on the first two days of the war. After that there were few further leavers until June 1915 when the Police (Emergency Provisions) Act was passed, which allowed policemen to apply to their Chief Constables to leave with greater reassurances of job security on their return. 2 Men were allocated to a group depending on the year of their birth. Group 2 were those born in 1896 (19 years of age); Group 3 were born in 1985; Group 4 born in 1894; and Group 5 born in 1893. Public notices as well as individual letters informed men of their need to report for duty. 3 The occupations were full-time agricultural work; coal mining; work in the ports, shipping or military transport; doctors; and those employed in Admiralty, War Office or munitions work.

References 1 Jones, H. (2016) ‘The Nature of Kingship in First World War Britain’. In ­Glencross, M., Rowbotham, J. and Kandiah, M.D. (eds), The Windsor Dynasty 1910 to the Present ‘Long to Reign Over Us?’ London: Palgrave Macmillan, pp. 195–216. 2 Metropolitan Police – Telegram. TNA MEP 2/7169. 3 Metropolitan Police and National Defence, Letter from Sir Edward Henry to the Under Secretary of State, 30 March 1915. TNA MEPO 2/7205. 4 The Police Review, Imperial Parliament. House of Commons, Tuesday, 6–16 July 1915, p. 337. 5 Emsley, C. (1996) The English Police: A Political and Social History. London and New York: Longman; Englander, D. (1991) ‘Police and Public Order in Britain, 1914–1918’. In Emsley, C., Weinberger, B. (eds), Policing Western Europe, 1850–1940: Politics, Professionalization and Public Order. Westport, CT: Meckler, pp. 97–98. 6 I am grateful to Mark Rothwell for his personal communication clarifying if Temporary Police were officers who were sworn in. 7 See, for example, The Police Review, The Police and the War, 11 September 1914, p. 444. 8 The Police Review, The Police and the War: Edinburgh Chief Constable and Volunteers, 2 October 1914, p. 480. 9 The Police Review, Edinburgh City Police, 17 March 1916, p. 126. 10 The Police Review, Parade Gossip, 18 December 1914, p. 612.

158  Conscription and the police 11 The Police Review, Scarcity of Police Recruits: Exeter, 12 February 1915, p. 79. 12 In the Durham Constabulary, the physical stature of a man had to be 5’ 10” with a chest measurement of 37”. His pay was given as £1, 6 shillings and 10 pence per week, rising to £1, 15 shillings and 7 pence with allowances for uniform and boots. His leave in times of peace was said to be 52 days a year: The Police Review, 8 January 1915, p. 1. 13 Gregory, A. (2008) The Last Great War. New York: Cambridge University Press. 14 Grieves, K. (1988) The Politics of Manpower, 1914–1918. Manchester: Manchester University Press, p. 14. 15 Men of Military Age (Police Canvass), House of Commons Debates, 27 April 1915, vol 71, c 553. 16 The Police Review, Obtaining Recruits for the Army, 8 July 1915, p. 326. 17 Grieves, K. (1988) op. cit., p. 14, quoted from a letter from Walter Long to H. A. Gwynne, editor of the Morning Post, 1 January 1915. 18 The Battle of Loose took place on the Western Front from 25 September to 8 October 1915. British casualties were reported as nearly 60,000, twice as many as German losses. Edmonds, J. E. (1928). Military Operations France and Belgium, 1915: Battles of Aubers Ridge, Festubert, and Loos. History of the Great War Based on Official Documents by Direction of the Historical Section of the Committee of Imperial Defence. II, 1st edn. London: Macmillan. OCLC 58962526. 19 The Police Review, Imperial Parliament. House of Commons, Tuesday, 6–16 July 1915, p. 337. 20 The Police Review, Cheshire Army Shirkers, 16 July 1915, p. 339. 21 The Police Review, Superficial Claptrap, 23 July 1915, p. 355. 22 The Police Review, Hereford Force Addressed by the Chief Constable, 1 October 1915, p. 472. 23 The Police Review, Force of Special Constables: Presentation at Croydon (Metro), 7 January 1916, p. 10. 24 The Police Review, Special Constables and Military Duty, 17 March 1916, p. 121. 25 The Police Review, Parade Gossip, 17 March 1916, p. 122. 26 Lomas, J. (2014) ‘Soldiering on: War Widows in First World War Britain’. In Andrews, M. & Lomas, J (eds), The Home Front in Britain: Images, Myths and Forgotten Experiences since 1914. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, pp. 39–56. 27 Grieves, K. (1988), op. cit., p. 21. 28 National Registration Act, 1915 [5 & 6 Geo. 5. CH. 60]. 29 Beveridge Collection on Food Control (British Library of Political and Economic Science, London), Men available for military service in England and Wales. Estimate made by the Registrar General’s Committee, 6 October 1915. 30 National Register. CAB 37/134/32. 31 Grieves, K. (1988), op. cit., p. 23. 32 Grieves, K. (1988), op. cit., p. 22. 33 Correspondence, Papers of the Stanley Family, Earls of Derby. 920 DER (17) 26/2. 34 The Police Review, Attested Police, 14 January 1916, p. 20. 35 Emsley, C. (1996) op. cit. 36 The Police Review, Police Law and Practice: Questions and Answers. 13576. Special Constables – Liability to Military Service (italics supplied), 24 March 1916, p. 134. 37 Grieves, K. (1988) op. cit., p. 22; Cassar, G. H. (1977) Kitchener. Architect of Victory. London: Harper Collins. 38 The Police Review, Imperial Parliament: House of Commons, Tuesday, 21–24 November 1916, p. 465.

Conscription and the police  159 39 The Police Review, Police Law and Practice: Questions and Answers. 13751. Scotland: Army Service – Re-admission to force, 23 February 1917, p. 58. 40 Personal communication from Mark Rothwell researching Devon and Cornwall police during the First World War. 41 The Police Review, Force of Special Constables. Should Specials be Paid? 14 April 1916, p. 178. 42 The Police Review, News of “Specials” in Brief, 19 May 1916, p. 232. 43 The Police Review, News of “Specials” in Brief, 19 October 1917, p. 334. 44 [5 & 6 Geo. 5.] The Military Service Act, 1916 [CH. 104] was passed on 27 January 1916. 45 The Police Review, Military Service Act, 16 February 1916, p. 79. 46 The Police Review, Exemption of Police, 17 March 1916, p. 126. 47 The Police Review, News of Specials in Brief, 30 June 1916, p. 299. 48 The Police Review, Exemption in Aberdeenshire, 11 August 1916, p. 348. 49 The Police Review, The Police and the War, 24 November 1916, p. 471. 50 Circular letter from the War Office to Recruiting Officers and Appeal Military Representatives, 14 August 1916. TNA MH 47/142/4/1. 51 Cassar, G. H. (2011) Lloyd George at War, 1916–1918. London: Anthem Press. 52 Army Council Instruction No 1551 of 1916. TNA MH 47/142/4/1; The Police Review, Grounds for Exemption from Military Service, 4 August, p. 343. 53 Gregory, A. (2008) (op. cit.) shows how in Bristol alone 41,000 cases were heard for 22,000 men: 17,000 were ultimately refused exemption. In Leeds, tribunals sat 435 times, hearing 55,101 cases from 27,000 men: 13,897 were dismissed with 41,204 claims being withdrawn or temporary exemptions granted. He shows that success rates varied widely between tribunals from 20% to 50%, usually for temporary exemption; as he says, so it was worth a try! 54 The Police Review, Imperial Parliament, Tuesday, 21 November. Metro. Police of Military Age. 24 November 1916, p. 465. 55 Army Council Instruction No. 2092 of 1916. War Office, 7 November 1916. TNA MH 47/142/4/2. 56 The Police Review, News of “Specials” in Brief, 24 November 1916, p. 463. 57 The Police Review, Parade Gossip, 8 December 1916, p. 494. 58 Grayzel, S. R. (2013) Women and the First World War. Abingdon: Routledge, p. 63. 59 The Police Review, House of Commons, 14–23 February 1917, p. 57. 60 Military Service (Review of Exceptions) Act, 1917. 61 The Police Review, House of Commons, 23 May; POLICE OF MILITARY AGE, 1 June 1917, p. 170. 62 The Police Review, Police under Thirty-One Years of Age, 23 March 1917, p. 95. 63 The Police Review Policemen of Military Age: Rotherham, 19 October 1917, p. 332. 64 The Police Review, Constables – Military Service, etc., 17 August 1917, p. 258. 65 Cassar, G. H. (2011), op. cit., p. 26. 66 Cassar, G. H. (2011), op. cit., p.32. 67 The Police Review, Police of Military Age. Agreement between the War and the Home Offices, 1 December 1916, p. 478. 68 The Police Review, Police Law and Practice: Questions and Answers. 13650. National Registration Act – Police Powers (italics supplied), 14 July 1916, p. 313. 69 The Police Review, Police Law and Practice. Questions and Answers. 13652. National Registration Act – Power to Require Production of Certificate, 21 July 1916, p. 321. 70 The Police Review, Military Service Act – Police Powers, 8 December 1916, p. 393.

160  Conscription and the police 71 Grieves, K. (1988), op. cit., p. 35. 72 The Police Review, Parade Gossip, 29 September 1916, p. 431. 73 Hinchcliffe, P. (2017) The Police and the Great War. Journal of the Police ­History Society 31, 18–24. 74 Charman, T. (2014) The First World War on the Home Front. London: Imperial War Museum, p. 55. 75 Circular R 97 from the Local Government Board to Local Tribunals and ­Appeal Tribunals, 26 August 1916. TNA MH 47/142/4/1. 76 War Cabinet, 55. 5 February 1917. CAB 23/1/55. The Times, 6 February 1917. 77 The Police Review, News of “Specials” in Brief, 30 March 1917, p. 104. 78 Agricultural Census. TNA HO 45/10827/322579. 79 Emsley, C. (1996), op. cit., p. 125. 80 The Police Review, News of “Specials” in Brief, 17 August 1917, p. 262. 81 The Police Review, News of “Specials” in Brief, 17 August 1917, p. 262. 82 The Police Review, News of “Specials” in Brief, 17 August 1917, p. 262. 83 Charman, T. (2014), op. cit. 84 The Police Review, Special Constables for Military Service, 26 April 1918, p. 133. 85 Imperial War Museum (n.d.) The Official History of the Ministry of Munitions. Uckfield, East Sussex: The Naval and Military Press Ltd. VI. The Report of Lord Rhondda’s Committee, 23 March 1917, pp. 79–83. 86 The Police Review, Temporary Police of Military Age, 15 June 1917, p. 188. 87 The Police Review, Letters to the Editor: Releasing the 1914 Men, 3 May 1918, p. 139. 88 The Police Review, ibid. 89 The Police Review, Policemen of Military Age, 22 February 1918, p. 61. 90 The Police Review, Letters to the Editor: Combing Out the Police, 3 May 1918, p. 139. 91 House of Commons Debates 5s. Col. 73, 14 January 1918; Col. 1241, 24 January 1918. 92 The Police Review, Combing Out the Police, 3 May 1918, p. 141. 93 The Police Review, Police and Military Service, 17 May 1918, p. 157. 94 The Police Review, ibid. 95 The Police Review, “A Patriotic Appeal.” A Soldier’s Criticisms. Contributed by “Not a Conchie,” op cit. 96 Grieves, K. (1988), op. cit., p. 186. 97 Letter from Army Council, 27/Gen.No./6719 (A.G.13), 22 January 1918. NATS 1/338. 98 Local Government Board. Military Service (No 2) Act, 1918. R. 184. TNA MH 47/142/6/1. 99 The London Gazette, Tuesday, 23 April 1918, Number 30646, pp. 4891–4892. 100 See Great Western Front Association: Conscription Categories in the Great War. 101 National Service Instruction No. 124 of 1918. TNA MH 47/142/6/2. 102 Volunteer Force R224. TNA MH 47/142/6/2. 103 Local Government Board. Regulations & Instructions. R.173. 4 March 1918. TNA MH 47/142/6/1. 104 [7 & 8] Military Service Act, 1918 (CH. 66), 6 February 1918. Military Service Bill 117. 14 January 1918. TNA MH 47/142/6/1. 105 Emsley, C. and Weinberger, B. (eds) (1991) Policing Western Europe: Politics, Professionalism, and Public Order, 1850–1940. New York: Greenwood Press. 106 The Police Review, op. cit., 26 April 1918, p. 133.

Conscription and the police  161 107 Letter from Local Government Board, Whitehall to Local Tribunal R240, 25 October 1918. TNA MH 47/142/6/2. 108 The Police Review, News of “Specials” in Brief, 19 July 1918, p. 228. 109 The Police Review, News of “Specials” in Brief, 2 August 1918, p. 242. 110 Grieves, K. (1988), op. cit., p. 174. 111 The Police Review, News of “Specials” in Brief, 17 August 1917, p. 262. 112 The Police Review, Notes and Comments, 5 April 1917, p. 109. 113 The Police Review, Parade Gossip, 11 August 1916, p. 351. 114 The Police Review, Special Constables for Military Service, 26 April 1918, p. 133. 115 Local Government Board, Volunteer Force. Memorandum to Local Tribunals and Appeals Tribunal. R.169, January 1918. TNA MH 47/142/6/1. 116 The Police Review, News of “Specials” in Brief, 12 April 1918. 117 Grieves, K. (1988), op. cit., p. 198; Draft National Service Instruction Memo. 25 December 1917. Men classified in Grade 3. Attitude of National Service Representatives before Tribunals. NATS 1/338. 118 The Police Review, The Regular and Special Constabulary, 14 June 1918, p. 189. 119 The Police Review, Demobilisation, 22 November 1918, p. 365.

9 Policing sexual morality

This chapter shows the discourse of sexual morality and the moral panic that developed to control women of child-bearing age, which rose in importance during the war years and from which few escaped. The discourse brought in new areas as the war progressed, including promiscuity, unmarried mothers, concealed abortion and venereal disease. From the start of the war, the prospect of many young women, both married and unmarried, being left on their own with no male to head the household created public anxiety about who would protect these women. Fear spread of unrestrained sexual impropriety initially with the troops stationed at home. The discourse of sexual morality, particularly amongst women, which arose at the beginning of the war, saw the inevitable outcome in investigations attempting to show concealed abortions, increased incidence of illegitimate children and dissolute mothers as the signs of morally bad women. To try to control their activities and to contain the spread of their actions to good women, in which the policeman felt ill-suited, many organisations sprang up, not least of which were Women Police (see Chapter 5) as well as surveillance by the police themselves, such as in the War Separation Allowance (Chapter 3). The public fear of sexual immorality was also seen when substitution of male by female labour became the norm following the Home Office and Board of Trade Interdepartmental Committee of November 1915. The results of this investigation “utilising to the full the reserve of women’s labour” set up local committees under Labour Exchanges “facilitating the extended employment of women in industry” [1]. This increased the number of unchaperoned women of all classes in the world of work outside the home, traditionally a male domain, and was said to alter their appearance and behaviour [2] as well as the amount of money they had to spend on leisure activities, including drinking in public houses. Indeed, for the police, the increasing phenomenon of women drinking in public houses could be linked with serious moral decline. They were taught how to detect trouble through the pages of their journal: It has come to your knowledge that a public house in your district is the habitual resort of prostitutes who are permitted to remain on the premises for lengthy periods. Observation is kept and proceedings are taken

Policing sexual morality  163 against the licensee, who is convicted but appeals against the conviction. Report fully how, as the responsible supervising officer you would deal with the case. [3] This quotation shows the suspicion of the link between alcohol in some public houses and prostitution, which needed a conviction to remove the offending women either out of the location or from society altogether and into a form of rehabilitation. The change in gender roles was seen as moral decline, which spawned public outcry and, in turn, could be seen as another form of the enemy within the country which threatened discipline and order [4]. The police and women patrols were mainly involved in trying to prevent or contain immorality, according to the laws of the land. Sexual chastity traditionally was seen as respectable and the control, particularly of working class women’s morals, was to be replaced by a ­m iddle-class social order [5]. “Khaki fever” started soon after the outbreak of war in August 1914 and challenged respectability and sexual morality not only amongst the working classes but also amongst some middle-class women and girls. It became a growing source of public concern not only to the police and military authorities, but also to the clergy, voluntary organisations concerned with sexual morality and journalists. It brought in government, the police and local and military authorities to decide how to control this portrayal of blatant sexuality. A huge controversy arose publicly between those advocating female chastity and those similar to the British Society for the Study of Sex Psychology who preached the benefits of sexual liberation and the feminists who called people who sought to contain women’s sexuality “alarmist morality mongers” [6]. Women patrols and women police, recruited mainly from the middle classes, worked throughout Britain in an attempt to control women’s sexuality, for example, 40 worked in Birmingham as women patrols. The Police Review encouraged their work: Their efforts are devoted chiefly to keeping order amongst young girls who are likely to be excited by the presence of the military, and whose admiration for men in uniform might possibly pass the limit of discretion. [7] The control of khaki fever lasted, for the police and women patrols, well into 1915; Woollacott [8] shows this is beyond the life of the “epidemic” itself, which was evident mainly in 1914. The work of the women patrols is shown: They patrol the streets in pairs, in the neighbourhood of military and naval camps, and exercise some amount of supervision over the swarms of young girls who find the wearers of “khaki” such an irresistible attraction. [9]

164  Policing sexual morality Middle class women who took roles as women police or patrols claimed that they were equally good or better than policemen at both understanding and controlling women’s and girls’ overt sexuality, as they understood them better and could relate to them, which would make a difference “a Policewoman, whose principal duty is to dissuade young people, especially young girls, from flighty behaviour in public places …” [10]. This mothering behaviour shows how they knew the types of behaviour from observation of the young girl’s body that could lead her beyond “flighty behaviour” and into sexual immorality. By patrolling particular well-known locations that were likely to attract illicit sexual activity and by observing the behaviour of young girls, the policewoman would help to prevent sexual immorality: They (women police) would be useful for the following: (1) The patrolling of streets, parks, and open spaces, and most of this work would be of a preventive nature. Young ignorant girls come to large cities and fall into difficulties because they have no one near to advise them. (2) Supervision of places of amusement especially frequented by boys and girls, such as picture halls. (3) Inspection of common lodging-houses for women. As the law stands common lodging-houses are open night and day to inspection by Police. [11] The claim of being better able to advise ignorant young girls who had nobody else to advise them and to alert them to the dangers of falling into the ways of sexual immorality by mistake – the “amateur girls” – was both when they were outdoors, particularly those who moved away from home for work, and in places of amusement indoors. Policemen claimed that they were at a disadvantage in dealing with khaki fever as it was a role they felt unsuited to perform: In the early days of the war I received numerous complaints of undesirable conduct on the part of girls, many of them quite young, in the streets. This state of things was general throughout the country where troops were stationed, and, being somewhat out of the scope of the Police, proved a delicate and difficult problem to deal with. [12] Taken from the Annual Report of the Chief Constable of Carlisle for 1916, it showed the clear distinction between the role of men and women in policing: women were far better able to deal with issues surrounding the behaviour of young women and girls. Women used surveillance strategies to observe

Policing sexual morality  165 these outdoor meeting places as well as to invade the indoor spaces, where the law allowed them, such as the ill-reputed common lodging houses. And they were able to claim some success: The mere presence of a Woman Patrol walking up and down created a healthier atmosphere in the streets; but she felt that people were apt to imagine that in certain districts every sort of thing was happening which actually did not happen. Miss Talbot spoke of the great contrast between the Waterloo Road district where the soldiers who gathered were mostly home on leave, and the neighbourhood of the White City, where the men were under military discipline. The Women Patrols always went in couples, and without speaking or taking any active part they undoubtedly helped to keep undesirable things from happening by walking up and down ill-frequented and ill-lighted streets. [13] Sexual immorality was seen to occur not only when soldiers were not under military discipline and therefore free to roam at will, for which the army was criticised as needing to control the men arriving home on leave exhausted and to prevent them from being exploited with money to spend when they arrived at railway stations, but also that immorality occurred secretly in quiet ill-frequented places and ill-lit streets and parks away from public view. The last two lines of this quotation imply the public anxiety that sexual immorality could not be controlled, despite the women patrols. This type of paranoia that sexual immorality was everywhere and uncontrollable fuelled press reports about the war causing an increased level of immorality, spawning many religious and women’s organisation which tried to show that levels of immorality had not risen as a result of the war conditions. However, the need to do something was frequently seen: That this meeting of the Perth and District Association for the Protection of Women and Children specially called to consider the desirability of the appointment of Women Police, being unanimously of opinion that the best interests of good order and of the moral welfare of the community, and especially of women and children, it is desirable that in certain communities there should be Women Police. [14] In these locations, which promoted themselves as good at protecting their populations, the responsibility for cleaning up the streets and improving the moral welfare of the inhabitants was seen by some organisations as the middle-class role of women police. But the police portrayed their suspicions that they were unable to detect the difference between the “amateur girls” and more serious cases of immorality or to prevent the former becoming the latter:

166  Policing sexual morality She knew, of course, that the girls and women were not all legitimately out for exercise and air. There had grown up a class of women who could not be called prostitutes, though in great danger of becoming so, who were out for a bit of fun, who were willing that men should pay for that fun, and who thought that they could take care of themselves; some of them had knowledge which they would be better without; some would pass for prostitutes, some for respectable girls, and some might be said to belong to neither one class or the other. [15] In this description of the amateur girls, the police saw the dangers of sexual immorality everywhere which they needed to control to prevent the moral decline of naïve girls and to control those who were less naive. But in some locations, the behaviour was seen as much more than merely flirtations and the need to control young girls with high spirits, they were seen as dangerous places which were unsuitable for any woman and required military control, such as in Swansea Docks: MR POWLESLAND replied that workmen in the docks declared that the Swansea Docks were a hotbed of immorality, and much worse than ever before, and that there were girls to be seen from 13 years of age with drunken sailors day and night on board ships. [16] Swansea Council promoted itself as having a particularly serious problem which required special measures by the Council and was noted by the police. This also shows the frequent links made between alcohol and sexual immorality, as well as a level of xenophobia, particularly in relation to sailors: there are very many (sailors), both English and foreign, who after a long voyage, and with much pay to receive, spread sin and drunkenness all around, … and it is this which causes so many loose girls to be upon our streets. If these girls use bad language, or are disorderly, you must do your duty and lock them up. [17] This quotation from a training session for newly recruited constables shows the links that they should make between girls in the company of sailors and “upon our streets,” their use of bad language and their disorderly behaviour, particularly as this related to alcohol. These are what policemen should look out for as they add up to the signs of a morally bad girl. The responsibility of the police was to segregate them from the rest of society by locking them up. Off the streets, sexual immorality was said to occur in well-known locations, such as brothels, which policemen should see as housing prostitutes – fallen women, for whom there was perceived to be little hope of return to a

Policing sexual morality  167 moral life. Some cities claimed they had particularly serious problems due to their docks compared with other well-known British cities: Disreputable Houses. Manchester and Glasgow are neither of them equal in population to this town (Liverpool). In the former there are *** houses of ill-fame, in the latter ***. In Liverpool there are not less than ****. I have already said that the tonnage of this port exceeds that of London. Our docks are at our doors, with 15 ½ miles of quays. There is an average floating population of 20,000 seamen. [18] Liverpool police claimed the need for additional resources to keep order in areas around the docks, which, like Swansea, were seen as dangerous places. The police recounted their inability to control prostitution, which seemed to be a hopeless quest in some places: … the annual report of the Chief Constable of Folkestone “the assistance given by Women Police in dealing with cases of brothel-­keeping, solicitation, etc. has been very disappointing.” Folkestone has, of course, a very difficult problem to deal with and the Policewomen are not alone in finding the result of their work “very disappointing.” [19] Shorncliffe, less than two miles from Folkestone, housed 40,000 Canadian soldiers who had landed in Plymouth in February 1915 on their way to barracks at Shorncliffe, with the officers based in private houses throughout Folkestone.

Canadian soldiers marching down The Leas, Folkestone. Picture courtesy of Folkestone Then and Now http://www.warrenpress.net/FolkestoneThenNow/­Folkestone Then_Now.html

168  Policing sexual morality

Memorial to Canadian soldiers on The Leas, Folkestone.

This transformed the previously genteel holiday resort overnight into a home for soldiers, who were welcomed into the town by the local people and developed strong ties with them, to the extent that there is still an annual parade through the town to remember them [20]. Canadian troops were based in Shorncliffe and Folkestone since 1915 for the duration of the war, returning for periods of leave from France. Although very much welcomed by the local community and unlike Swansea or Liverpool not seen as making the town or docks dangerous, they were portrayed by some residents and also to the Home Office to have money to spend [21] and inevitably crime developed. The Home Office was informed that a large number of prostitutes had come to Folkestone from London and elsewhere causing a serious outbreak of venereal disease in the troops, which led to conferences between the Home Office and local authorities resulting in Defence of the Realm Act (DORA) Regulation 13A [22,23]. The police said the town developed a particular problem of brothel keeping and solicitation in 1915, when they closed four brothels [24,25], seen by the Chief Constable in evidence to the Watch Committee as insufficient. In February 1916, the month in which DORA 13A was passed, 37 convicted prostitutes and those convicted of brothel keeping were evicted from Folkestone [26]. Considerable discussion at the Watch Committee in March 1916 involved members being told, 3 months into the employment of two women police, that since magistrates had increased powers to expel certain women from the town, some members of the committee no longer saw the need for women police. Although they were said to have carried out their work to the satisfaction of the Committee and the Chief Constable, the decision to employ them should

Policing sexual morality  169 be revoked. Those convicted under Regulation 13A had entered the town since the start of the war and as they had now been evicted there was no further need for the women police. However, the Archbishop of Canterbury intervened, writing that he “had been following the doings of the women police all over the country with great interest.” He promoted them as carrying out work which it was almost impossible for a man to do. Following a vote, the motion to revoke the appointment of the two women police was lost by 12 votes to 6 and they were retained [27]. DORA Regulation 13A and B made prostitution an offence, particularly for those who had moved into an area where a military camp was located since the outbreak of war, as well as keeping, managing or assisting in the management of a brothel, of indecent conduct in public places or of vagrancy; anyone convicted could be removed from the location. A list of those convicted was kept by the police and given to the military authorities [28]. The Army Council were instructed to work “in close co-operation with the Civil Police” and to exercise discretion [29]; the Regulation was said by the Canadian military leaders to be very useful in keeping their troops away from the temptation of prostitution [30]. However, by mid-1917 in Grantham, Regulation 13A was not seen to be sufficient as the Chief Constable said unless a woman was known to the police as a prostitute and suffering from venereal disease, they had to watch her for long periods of time to obtain sufficient evidence for a conviction which a Magistrate would not overturn. It was only after a conviction that the police could apply to the military authorities for an order to compel her to live elsewhere. The Chief Constable asked for detention of women found to be suffering from venereal disease before their cases could be brought before a Magistrate, to safeguard the local troops. Occasionally, the Chief Constable said the police could persuade a woman to leave Grantham; if so, they would pay her fare to wherever she wanted to go; but this was said to be rare [31]. Expelling women from towns where troops were based frequently enabled them to become established elsewhere, often in nearby towns, only to be followed by the troops from the camps and to continue as before. Vagrancy was also an historic problem for the police nationally, stretching back over decades; during the war, it became associated with the discourse of sexual immorality, particularly of young women and girls. The police were schooled in how to treat them if found wandering in the streets, as a question in their journal’s examination section shows: Report fully the directions in respect to the procedure to be followed by Police when girls who are not common prostitutes are found wandering or sleeping in the streets. [32] Rounding up girls sleeping in the streets encouraged immorality to be conducted indoors out of the view of the police and the public who could report it. Regulation 13A was also said to be insufficiently stringent to stamp out

170  Policing sexual morality prostitution, as it failed to deal with the amateur girls, who were portrayed as being in far larger numbers than known prostitutes and seen as in serious danger of becoming prostitutes. Indeed, as early as August 1916, the War Office asked the Home Office to instruct the police to be more drastic in the use of their powers against solicitation, which followed a conference on venereal disease organised by the War Office [33]. Further measures under DORA were developed in April 1917. By mid-1915, some women and girls were attracted to work outside the home as well as many from the lower classes who moved from domestic service, small-scale dressmaking or being employed by their husbands [34] into large munitions factories around Britain with the lure of earning good money; it necessitated many to move away from home to work. This loosening of family ties was seen to encourage promiscuity [35], causing a shift in the discourse of sexual immorality which needed additional types of police surveillance in novel locations. The Chief Constable of Carlisle wrote in his annual report for 1916 of the need for women police to carry out the role: It has been found necessary to lodge a large number of girl operatives at hostels in various parts of the city, and it was very desirable that some supervision, apart from that of the regular Police Force, should be exercised over them during the time they were there. [36] The large number of girls housed in hostels was seen to need additional surveillance by women police indoors, so that the girls could be supervised not only at work, but also during their off-duty time. This completed the circle of surveillance wherever they were. The Chief Constable praised the women police for the improved conduct of girls in the streets and saw surveillance in hostels as an extension of their work. War babies were a further development in the discourse of sexual immorality, brought to public attention in the press in 1915, approximately 9 months after the start of the war, corresponding to the national outcry over khaki fever [37]. This public anxiety led to national investigations of the war baby phenomenon, particularly by religious and women’s organisations. In spring 1915, the committee led by Louise Crighton, Head of the National Union of Women Workers under the Chairmanship of Randall Davidson, Archbishop of Canterbury, met with the approval of the National Vigilance Association who denounced public scaremongering as “the hysterical and sensational statements of irresponsible people”: There will doubtless be an increase in illegitimate births, which is much to be deplored, but to talk of thousands in one town and of hundreds in various small villages, is, in our opinion, “hysterical nonsense.” [38]

Policing sexual morality  171 A further committee, which anticipated the results of the investigation, was chaired by the Archbishop of York. On 6 June 1915, Crighton and the Bishop of London spoke at a well attended meeting in London and blamed the press for the fear of huge numbers of war babies, which they said was an illusion: there were likely to be 20 rather than the thousands predicted. Three days later, the Archbishop of Canterbury endorsed these sentiments. The meeting was also attended by Sir Edward Henry, Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police, who spoke of the good work of the Women Patrols in suppressing unseemly conduct. The Chief Constable of Edinburgh similarly praised the women patrols for limiting sexual activity on the streets: “The ladies forming the Women Patrols – a body inaugurated for the purpose of keeping guard over the moral welfare of girls and young women who began in considerable numbers to frequent the various camps throughout the City – having (sic) during the year done excellent work,” says the Chief Constable of Edinburgh in the annual report for 1915. [39] The increased public anxiety in 1915 could not be supported by statistics, as this year showed the lowest illegitimacy rate in 40 years (10.04% of the total population). However, thereafter for the remainder of the war, illegitimacy rates rose annually – in 1916 to 13.4% of the total population, in 1917 to 14.35% and in 1918 to 14.44%, only in 1919 did the rate return to prewar levels at 11.34%. This disagrees with Beckett’s assessment of a small rise in 1916 and a return to a lower level thereafter for the remainder of the war [40,41]. The findings presented at the London conference in June 1915 led some press reports also to dismiss the panic of war babies with headlines such as “Not so many war babies?” [42]. However, the police continued to be taught and alerted to the likelihood of sexual immorality and its consequences and how to detect a concealed pregnancy by questions in their journal’s examination columns “What evidence is necessary to sustain a charge of concealment of birth” [43], showing the undercover nature of police work in the area and how detection may need many signs from the body and the surroundings, as well as verbal statements. But it was not only live illegitimate births that were the more obvious signs of sexual immorality needing police involvement but also illegal abortions that were a major concern and a sign of hidden immorality, which the police were taught about through the pages of their journal. An examination question “Define abortion” [44] in late 1915 shows how the police should be able to understand, describe and discuss the issues and the laws surrounding it, so that they would know what action to take. Examination questions implying the police would need to uncover the hidden practices of concealment of birth and abortion continued into early 1916 [45,46]. However, despite instructions in how to detect abortion, it was quite another

172  Policing sexual morality matter to be able to prosecute a woman suspect, which was shown in a question to The Police Review: The wife of a soldier is found to be suffering from a bad miscarriage after being about two or three months in pregnancy. She is accused at once by her friends of having taken something to produce the same. To this she said “Yes,” but at the time was practically in a state of collapse. Later on she was taxed again with having brought the miscarriage on herself. She neither admitted or denied it but after some time she strongly denied it altogether. The next day her friends called a doctor who examined her and said to the woman “Why, you have been taking ‘lead’ and brought about this trouble yourself”; this the woman denied, but the doctor said he was positive. This conversation took place in the presence of friends of the woman, who made a search of the house, but failed to find any drug likely to cause miscarriage. It is rather suspected that the drugs were supplied to her by a friend. In the circumstances is it part of the doctor’s duty to inform the Police that a miscarriage had been brought about by means of taking drugs? In case of a prosecution could the doctor be called as witness or could he claim privilege? Do you think there would be sufficient evidence for prosecution if one of the friends who heard the doctor’s remarks came forward and gave same in evidence? [47] Under Section 58 of the Offences against the Person Act 1861, a woman found guilty of attempting to precure her own miscarriage could receive a maximum sentence of penal servitude for life or anyone, under Section 59, found guilty of supplying any substance or instrument could also be convicted [48]. Taking lead was said to be one of the better-known methods to produce an abortion. As the previous quotation shows, the police were told that if the evidence cannot be secured by looking at the body, the only other way to secure a conviction was if the woman admitted the offence. The quotation shows that the woman changed her story, likely due to self-monitoring when public officials like the doctor and policeman became involved. But, regardless of being able to secure sufficient evidence, the presence of police involvement and questioning would cause a social disgrace by suggesting a self-induced abortion, resulting in friends and neighbours distancing themselves for fear of being suspected of supplying under Section 59. The event would, if taken to court, have been notified to her husband serving overseas in the army, likely to cause at least temporary harm to her marriage; if divorce resulted, she could be left in dire financial circumstances. Furthermore (as discussed in Chapter 3), a woman would risk losing her separation allowance if she was taken to court, sometimes regardless of whether she was found guilty or not. In times of heightened anxiety about sexual immorality, friends and neighbours were seen by the police as their accomplices

Policing sexual morality  173 in surveillance over each other in these well-publicised areas, such as illegal abortion, and the woman would also likely be shunned by her friends as a social disgrace. By the end of the war, the police talked about the further evidence they needed to obtain in order to help with a prosecution: Other classes of cases in which Women Police would be desirable were those of concealment of birth and attempts to precure abortion. Such cases, involving visits to girls, women’s bedrooms, the examination of female clothing, etc. were most unsuitable for investigation by men. [49] It was not sufficient to only observe behaviour, evidence also needed to be collected from the very private sphere of a woman’s clothing and bedroom. This developed the appeal for the need for women police. Furthermore, if the absent husband in the army or navy heard of his wife’s sexual impropriety, he could ask the military authorities to investigate the allegations, bringing further work for women police: In connection with the war, too, there was a new class of work arising out of complaints by soldiers concerned – the alleged misbehaviour of their wives during their absence at the front. Sometimes the complaints were well founded, sometimes not, but the investigations which they involved could be much better conducted by women than men. [50] Also, the discourse of sexual immorality singled out certain locations for suspicion which needed to be under surveillance, as they were likely to house more serious forms of immorality: Some of these houses (furnished rooms) are inhabited by the same class of persons who live in common lodging houses …. The register containing the names of registered owners or keepers and description of common lodging-houses should be kept at the Central Police Office. … Cases of abortion are not infrequent, but the collection of evidence of this kind is very difficult to secure, as those who have covered their shame by unlawful practices are often keen to avoid suspicion or exposure. [51] Central government control was needed of houses likely to be of ill repute by registration with the police so that they could know the property and its inhabitants, with regular visits to detect any signs of sexual immorality and effect prosecutions. They were well-known places where abortion was to be suspected. By March 1916, with the publication of the Report of the Royal Commission on Venereal Disease the previous month [52], which started work

174  Policing sexual morality in 1913 before the outbreak of war, Britain had a large amount of evidence and scientific opinion on the causes, statistics, or lack thereof, and possible medical treatment for venereal disease. This was a further inclusive aspect of the discourse of sexual morality. A striking finding was that 8%–12% of the adult male population was said to have a venereal infection. The Report led to action by organisations: July 1916 saw a circular from the Local Government Board to all County and Borough Councils giving them responsibility to develop diagnosis and treatment schemes in hospitals or other institutions and to supply doctors with Salvarsan, the best treatment at the time, at public cost, making treatment obligatory, and to develop lectures and leaflets to educate the public. Councils had to submit their treatment schemes to the Board for approval [54–55]. But progress was seen as slow; by 23 April 1917, only 99 out of 145 Local Councils had submitted schemes in conjunction with their local hospitals, of which only 61 treatment centres had been approved – of note were London and Newcastle [56]. By 1918, 127 schemes had been approved with a further 18 being developed; 69 clinics had opened and a further 79 were opened in 1919 [57]. This further development in the discourse of sexual morality and its consequences of sexually transmitted diseases aimed to bring the problem out into the open. But by 1917, the possibility that not everyone was being treated led the police to portray themselves as key to being able to access those who were hard to reach to advise them and to provide the information supplied by local government: At a well-attended meeting in London on 26th ult., it was decided to establish a London and Home Counties branch of the National Council for Combating Venereal Disease. Among the speakers were Sir Edward Henry, Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police, who was elected to the Executive Committee. Sir Edward Henry said that he controlled an agency which might be used to co-operate with the local authorities in popularising a knowledge of the subject and might induce many to shun its risks and others to seek treatment. There were 200 Police Stations in the Metropolitan area, each with a staff present night and day. Quite 80% of the Force were married. All of them received full instruction on this subject at the training class. They were therefore qualified to be of particular use in popularising the information made available by the report of the Royal Commission among a class of people who would not be reached by the report itself. He was satisfied that the Police ought to be used in this way. [58] By showing that the police had the resources and that most of his Force were married, the Commissioner portrayed them as above reproach and, therefore, trustworthy in the area of sexual immorality as their sexual life would be respectable. He showed that the police had access to the public

Policing sexual morality  175 over the whole of London and particularly to those who were marginal, recognising the disease as a social disgrace resulting in the tendency for sufferers and their partners to try to conceal it. The police could spread the word, which would involve the public and local authorities more closely in surveillance and detection of those needing treatment. The state should take responsibility from public funds for finding and treating those infected [59], to bring venereal disease more into the open so that everyone could be treated. Implicitly, the word would also be spread further to many agencies brought in to give guidance, ensuring no potential or actual sufferer could escape. However, not everyone was impressed by the claims of the police in London. Soliciting, prostitution and the spread of venereal disease were said to be so serious that high profile figures such as the engineer and magistrate Sir Francis Fox wrote to Lloyd George to plead for his help not only to clean up the “terrible condition of the streets of London at night,” particularly in the Waterloo Road, The Strand and Horseferry Road, but also to protect the soldiers and sailors and to prevent the large numbers of Australians with venereal disease filling the hospital wards and to protect the soldiers from the Dominions while they were in London. He also accused the police and authorities of being “paralyzed”; he said drastic legislation was needed [60]. The Royal Commission on Venereal Disease also made known that the disease led to physical deformities in those children who were not stillborn, as well as to sterility, particularly important at a time when the nation needed to produce more healthy children to replace the loss of life in battle. Physical deformities were also said to have financial implications for the country, as special schools were seen as essential to segregate deformed children from those without deformities and categorise their physical deformities into separate schools: for the deaf, for the blind and for the deformed were necessary. But, as well as affecting the current younger generation, the next generation of children could also be severely harmed by giving them knowledge they should not have, making prostitution a further cause of social degeneration affecting the next generation: If any person having the custody, charge or care of a child or young person between the ages of four and sixteen, allows that child or young person to reside in or to frequent a brothel, he shall be guilty of a misdemeanour and liable, on conviction or indictment or on summary conviction, to a fine not exceeding £25. [61] The portrayal of the next generation being the ones who would bring the nation out of the war and build it for the future rose in importance; it was vital to protect them, in the nation’s interests. So the police needed to ensure the surveillance of houses of ill repute to shield children from their venomous grasp.

176  Policing sexual morality The Report of the Royal Commission was followed by legislation. The Criminal Law Amendment Act passage through parliament was reported in The Police Review on 2 March 1917. The journal told its readers that venereal disease was: the existence and prevalence of an evil so great as to be in itself a scandal and in its terrible effects a menace to our national life. The war has unfortunately intensified the mischief, and it is sad to reflect that at a time when the manhood and womanhood of the whole empire has risen to such heights of noble self-sacrifice, this blot upon our civilisation should be spreading its baneful influence in our midst. [62] This urgent appeal to the police of the need to stamp out sexual immorality was for the sake of the nation as a whole and its empire. It needed drastic measures, stretching further than merely the control of prostitutes and brothels to become wide ranging, encompassing every member of the public: The terms of the Bill as now proposed …. Fall under three main heads:(1) Persons suffering from venereal disease; (2) Disorderly houses; (3) Indecent advertisements. With regard to the first, the Bill confers powers on the Court to inflict a heavy term of imprisonment on persons guilty of intercourse or solicitation while suffering from venereal disease. Further, the Court may order the medical examination of a person convicted of any sexual offence, with the object of ascertaining whether he or she is suffering from such a disease. The communication of venereal disease is thus made a punishable offence. [63] Immorality was seen everywhere and extended to advertisements, which everyone could see. The measures to stamp it out went far further than DORA Regulation 13A, to involve proof of venereal disease by medical examination, bringing doctors officially into the Court process in the prosecution of cases of sexual activity or soliciting by anyone with venereal disease. The Police Review told its readers that also included was immorality with girls under 16, with heavy sentences if found guilty: Acts of indecency with girls under sixteen years of age will be punishable, on conviction or indictment, by two years’ imprisonment, and on summary conviction by six months’ imprisonment, and it will be no defence to prove that the girl was a consenting party. Further, reasonable cause to believe that a girl was of or above the age of sixteen will be no defence to a charge under Sections 5 or 6 of the Criminal Law Amendment Act. [64]

Policing sexual morality  177 Penalties for keeping a disorderly house were increased by DORA Regulation 35C, passed in April 1917, which enabled the military and naval authorities to act with the police in areas where army and navy recruits were in training or where munitions were being produced, to remove people who had been convicted or were accused of an offence against public order or decency [65]. Furthermore, public titillation by advertisements seen as “indecent” and were said to encourage sexual immorality or to make it the subject of humour, as well as quack remedies purporting to cure venereal disease were also to be made an offence: The sections dealing with indecent advertisements extend the provisions of the Indecent Advertisements Act, 1889, and further provide that any advertisement relating to venereal disease, or which suggest the use of certain appliances or drugs, or that any premises may be used for immoral purposes, will be deemed to be printed or written matter of an indecent nature. [66] The Police Review supported these measures as “when it becomes operative, (the Act) will do much to abate the present ‘scandal of the streets’” [67] and would help the police to rid the nation of the evil of sexual immorality. During its passage through Parliament in April 1917, Captain Frederick Guest, recently returned from active service in the army, gave estimates of the number of cases of venereal disease admitted to hospitals in England alone since the start of the war: “over 70,000 cases of gonorrhoea, over 20,000 cases of syphilis, and over 6,000 cases of another disease somewhat similar to syphilis which goes by the name of soft chancre” – an updated forecast since 1915 [68]. This was said to be in addition to the 40,000–50,000 cases of syphilis and between 150,000 and 200,000 cases of gonorrhoea which he said had passed through hospitals in France [69]. The figures appealed to listeners to see the magnitude of the problem and also the effect it was having on the number of men available to fight,1 including the Canadians. Sufferers were said to become unfit or liable to succumb easily to conditions in the trenches or unable to recover from their wounds for a considerable period of time, which appealed for the prevalence of venereal disease to be seen as reducing the fighting ability of the troops [70] at a time when Britain was being scoured to find sufficient fit men to meet the demands of the army. However, the Criminal Law Amendment Act ran into difficulty in its passage through Parliament, particularly the proposed Clause 3, which The Police Review printed to show its readers: 3. – 1 Where a girl is convicted before any Court – a

of loitering or importuning passengers for the purpose of prostitution or solicitation, or of any other offence of a like nature; or b of any offence under the Vagrancy Act, 1824, of wandering in the public streets or public highway, and behaving in a riotous or indecent manner; or

178  Policing sexual morality c of any offence under the Punishment of Incest Act, 1908; or d of any offence under this Act; …and the Court is of opinion that the girl is under the age of 18, and that by reason of her mode of life or associations it is expedient to make an order under this section, the Court may, in lieu of awarding any punishment, order the girl to be detained until she attains the age of 19, or for any less period, in an institution or home for the time being approved by the Secretary of State for the purpose of this section. (2) A court summary jurisdiction, on remanding or committing for trial a girl charged with any of the offences specified in this section who is not released on bail, may, if the Court is of opinion that the girl is under the age of 18, instead of committing her to prison, commit her to custody in an institution or home approved for the purpose of this section and named in the commitment, to be there detained for the period for which she is remanded … [71] The penalties for offences under this Clause show the propensity at the time to segregate those being portrayed as bad women by housing them in a special institution; in the case of sexual immorality said to result in suffering from venereal disease, a State Rescue Home was needed, away from the rest of the normal population to prevent the accused from spreading disease to the healthy population. However, it was section (1) which caused the most difficulty for the police, as it was seen that girls under 18 could be arrested with the police providing the only evidence for the prosecution, often leaving the girl unsupported; as The Police Review said, The clause to which objection is taken authorises Magistrates to sentence girls under 18, on a first conviction for disorderly conduct, to detention until she attains the age of 19, in a State Rescue Home, and this, it is urged, without any safeguards as to proper evidence or investigation. [72] The journal reported that a move in the House of Commons to omit Clause 3 at the report stage was agreed. However, the Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police Sir Edward Henry portrayed his stance of bringing 19,025 girls and women accused of soliciting before magistrates since the start of the war as legitimate, but he said despite this the parks still had couples behaving “in the most scandalous manner” and therefore fining them was insufficient; this merely made them work harder to recoup the imposed fine [73]. Clause 3 caused huge public protest, particularly in and around ­London, by organised women’s groups with a deputation to the Home Secretary requested

Policing sexual morality  179 in late 1917 to protest their opposition, garnered through support at public meetings [74,75]. The Criminal Law Amendment Act was abandoned, to be revived the following year. The discourse of sexual immorality on the streets of London in particular and the effects it was having on the troops spread to the Dominions. As early as February 1917, the Governor General of Australia Sir Ronald Munro Ferguson sent a telegram to the Colonial Office: Serious press statements respecting London Street temptations and evils endangering health and morals Australian soldiers (sic). Government of Commonwealth of Australia would appreciate greatly preventive action being taken to minimise loss of efficiency resulting to Australian units. The Home Secretary’s reply claimed the reports were “much exaggerated” and that the police and Home Office were taking steps to deal with the existing “evil” and legislation was being enacted [76]. However, the reply did not quell the fears. In April, a letter from Field Marshall Birdwood, Commander of the Australian and New Zealand Army, to the Home Office claimed that while Australian soldiers were on leave in London, although they were provided with accommodation in Horseferry Road, they were molested by women “who will not leave them alone” on the streets of L ­ ondon, as the soldiers were known to be well paid. The Australian parents of these soldiers had been writing to say they were proud to send their sons to fight but had not expected this disgrace. He wished the Imperial War Council to take urgent drastic action under DORA on behalf of the Empire, particularly as demobilisation would introduce the disease to their countries [77]. The Imperial War Council first considered the matter at its conference on 24 and 27 April 1917, at which Sir Edward Henry, Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police, attended and spoke of the situation in London. Britain portrayed the legislation being debated in parliament (the Criminal Law Amendment Bill) as giving hope that more could be done to prevent prostitution and the spread of venereal disease. The Canadian Prime Minister portrayed the position of Canada emphatically: I do not think you will ever get Canada to send men Overseas to any war again unless we are assured that such conditions as have met our soldiers here will not meet them again (sic). I say unhesitatingly that if I should be Prime Minister of Canada on the outbreak of another war I would not send one man Overseas if he had got to face the conditions which our men have had to face during the progress of this War. I think it is a horrible outrage that they should be exposed as they have been, and no one sitting round this table can tell me what will be the effect of it upon the life of Canada in the next twenty-five or fifty years. [78]

180  Policing sexual morality Canada had sent hundreds of thousands of troops in three waves: the first arrived in Plymouth at the outset of war and were based on Salisbury Plain, whereas the second and third waves were housed in Shorncliffe and Folkestone, where they returned on leave. The Prime Minister’s portrayal would therefore have held considerable weight in Britain and the Dominions, along with his threat that he would make these conditions public “in a way that will not be forgotten” if something was not done urgently. He also showed the panic and helplessness that the relatives of soldiers felt when they heard of the conditions in London and was supported by all the Dominion countries at the prospect of demobilisation with so many young men returning home diseased to infect their nations. Representatives showed their understanding that there was no cure for these diseases and that the men, many of whom were married, would have for the rest of their lives. Whereas they had sent their sons to fight in the war acknowledging the risk that they could be killed and die as heroes, they had not expected the social disgrace of them contracting venereal disease, which would last for the rest of their lives. These sentiments were endorsed by representatives from New Zealand, South Africa, Newfoundland and India (which joined the conference on 27 April) in a motion passed: the attention of the authorities concerned be called to the temptations to which our soldiers when on leave are subjected, and that such authorities be empowered by legislation or otherwise (1) to protect our men by having the streets in the neighbourhood of camps, and other places of public resort, kept clear so far as practicable of women of the prostitute class, and (2) to take any other steps that may be necessary to remedy the serious situation that exists. [79] The phrase “so far as practicable” reflects the recognised inability of the police or military authorities to arrest women for fear of wrongful arrest with the public backlash that would occur, as similar strategies had been tried in the Dominions, with the same results. The results of the conferences were made public with reports in the press [80]. However, by early November 1917, 7 months after America joined the war, the American Military Authorities also wrote to the Home Office expressing their concern at the incidence of venereal disease in London and other large towns and asking the British Government for their help to control prostitution [81]. By February 1918, the previous two DORA Regulations were portrayed as insufficient to prevent the amateur girls’ behaviour when away from military camps, particularly on the streets of London. The inability to control prostitution or the spread of venereal disease, and the abandonment of the Criminal Law Amendment Act which failed to reach agreement in the House of Commons, led the War Cabinet to implement its strongest measure yet by passing DORA Regulation 40D in March 1918, said to be on the

Policing sexual morality  181 recommendation of the Imperial War Conference of 1917, due to the “profound dissatisfaction with the inaction of His Majesty’s Government”; any further delay would cause “very grave trouble with the Dominions” [82]. Regulation 40D declared: No woman who is suffering from venereal disease in a communicable form shall have sexual intercourse with any member of His Majesty’s forces or solicit or invite any member of His Majesty’s forces to have sexual intercourse with her. [83] The Regulation from the outset was portrayed by Home Secretary Sir George Cave as likely to cause trouble because the penalties applied to women but not to men, and that the protection it afforded applied to the army and navy but not to civilians. The measure enabled initial actions to bring a prosecution to be taken by the army and naval authorities while the prosecution should be conducted by the police. However, this measure did not satisfy the New Zealand or the Canadian authorities, who wished to see infected women segregated or kept away from military camps. The Canadian authorities, in particular, said that they had been: unable to see that any very adequate steps have been taken to carry out the Resolution (of the 1917 Imperial War Council) – that is, to protect our men by having the streets in the neighbourhood of camps and other places kept clear, as far as practicable, of women of the prostitute class. We do not see any adequate reason why known prostitutes should not be interned and put out of the way until the war is over, whether diseased or not diseased. [84] However, this suggestion of internment of all women said to be prostitutes had a major problem, succinctly expressed by the Home Office: the real difficulty is that, if you shut up every known prostitute, you would not deal with this difficulty, because a great deal of this infection … comes from people who are not prostitutes at all, and whose character is not discovered until they are found to be diseased. [85] This description of the “amateur girls” shows how the police were not able to discriminate between those women who were infected by venereal disease from the look of their body, clothing or behaviour, from those who were not so infected – the decent girls. The amateur girls were now said to account for 70% of the spread of infection, making known prostitutes a lesser part of the threat of the spread of disease.

182  Policing sexual morality Regulation 40D was a short-lived measure, rushed through parliament, which historians agree portrayed women as responsible for the spread of venereal disease to the army and navy, making them “disloyal conduits of sexual infections, and men in the armed forces as their victims” [86]. Equal responsibility on men for the spread of the disease was not seen as valid. It allowed remand and imprisonment on conviction of the offence [87] but resulted in only 396 women being accused in England and Wales, out of which 203 were taken to court and 101 convicted [88–90]. Prosecutions were said to be difficult, often because of the length of time between the original sexual contact and medical examination of the woman [91]. The Regulation was lambasted in the House of Lords in July 1918, as there have been several cases – I think I am justified in saying many cases – of the grossest injustice to innocent, healthy, uninfected women who, under Regulation 40 D have been brought before the magistrates. They have been accused of solicitation, of prostitution, of suffering from disease which upon examination and upon the evidence of witnesses and their own confessions have been proved to be groundless. [92] Furthermore, it was claimed that admission to hospital for venereal disease had diminished in the army based at Aldershot over the previous 15 years, as well as in army recruits nationally over the past 35 years [93], making Regulation 40D unnecessary. The Regulation also caused huge public protest, particularly by women’s groups, such as the Association for Moral and Social Hygiene, saying it could potentially be inflicted on any woman [94]. However, the government continued to be pressed to reduce venereal disease rates by the Dominions, particularly New Zealand, Australia and Canada, to clean up the streets of London, to check sexual immorality and to prevent the spread of the disease. A further deputation to the Home Secretary representing the Dominions and the United States in July 1918 portrayed in the minutes of the meeting: It was shocking, they thought, that the fine young men who came from the Dominions and elsewhere for military service should be exposed to temptations if they can be avoided. The Dominions felt very sorely on this subject and were not satisfied that the question had been dealt with as vigorously as it ought to have been. They wished to see more women police employed as they saw them as the best deterrent against solicitation and disorderly houses [95]. But by the end of the war, with the fear of venereal disease still very evident and with the looming prospect of demobilisation, Britain was portrayed as equally concerned that venereal disease would be brought home by a large number of

Policing sexual morality  183 troops. The police were seen to instruct their colleagues in how to promote treatment amongst returning soldiers and sailors: Commencing at Whitworth Street Station, London Road, C Division (Manchester), on Friday, the 16th inst., Captain Reid delivered before a full muster of the Division a lecture in plain language, showing how the Police in an unostentatious manner could assist those affected with the disease (VD), by obtaining the benefit of the most skilful and scientific treatment of the day. [96] This coincided with other national measures to attempt to combat venereal disease in returning troops after demobilisation to prevent its spread to uninfected partners, to protect the future of the nation [97]. Throughout the war, the discourse of sexual immorality shows the police to have serious difficulties in defining who was a prostitute, unless a woman had already been convicted of prostitution and was known to the police. The Metropolitan Police were said to be able to act under the Metropolitan Police Clauses Act of 1839 and the urban police under the Town Police Clauses Act, 1847, where it is necessary for the Police to prove “riotous or indecent conduct” or “obstruction or annoyance” to inhabitants or passengers; and also to prove that the person soliciting is a common prostitute or night walker. [98] But despite common law definitions in 1918, it was often left to individual police officers to decide who to arrest. Arrests were more likely in the areas where soliciting on the streets caused the most public offence, while in other areas a blind eye tended to be turned to such behaviour [99], undoubtedly linked to the fear of making an inappropriate arrest resulting in public outcry through portrayal in the media which brought the police into disrepute [100]. This fear was historically linked to the difficulty of proving solicitation or prostitution under the Contagious Diseases Acts.2 The Army had equal difficulty making a conviction under the Army Act 1881, Section 16. Cases of wrongful arrest continued to be cited, such as the case of Miss Cass arrested by Constable Endacott in 1887, who was acquitted by the magistrate with articles in the press praising her respectability and portraying her as the innocent victim compared with the perjury of the police officer’s evidence in court. This led to debates in the House of Commons and an enquiry into the conduct of the magistrate by the Lord Chancellor and of the constable by the Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police. Following the case, the Commissioner gave instructions to police officers not to arrest any woman without corroborative evidence. Further cases in 1891 found the arrested woman, Miss Millard, who was accused of being a disorderly

184  Policing sexual morality prostitute, on medical examination to be a virgin. Madame Eva D’Angely, in 1906, was portrayed as being arrested as a common prostitute because she had behaved in a riotous and indecent manner. Her case also led to policemen being criticised in the press as “uniformed ruffians” and to the Home Secretary being questioned in the House of Commons [102]. These and other cases portrayed police action to arrest suspected prostitutes as highly risky for individual officers with the likelihood of punishment and their career prospects ruined, as in the cases of Cass, who was later portrayed as almost definitely soliciting, and of D’Angely, who was said to definitely be a prostitute, although the police were unable to establish these cases. The police as an organisation were also wary of supporting individual officers for fear of being portrayed of having too much power [103]. The difficulty of arrests was described as follows: It is not of course enough to prove that she was soliciting on a particular occasion or that she looks like a prostitute: someone must be ready to prove such habitual solicitation as establishes the fact of her being a prostitute. [104] The police were said to know habitual prostitutes, who would hide well away from them when plying their trade; it was the amateur girls who were not habitually immoral who were portrayed as causing the difficulty for the police. This brought conflicting views of women to the work of a policeman, as they did not know or were not able to tell by the look of their body or behaviour who to suspect or arrest. Some of this confusion is seen through their Inspector of Constabulary, as the police were encouraged to see good women as guardians of public morality, which conflicted with their work on the streets: In one respect the Inspector’s diagnosis of our social ills is sad and depressing reading. He takes the view that many of our present-day evils, e.g., the increase in juvenile crime, the decrease in the value of personal chastity, are not to be regarded as temporary consequences of the war, but are to be attributed to a deeper and more permanent cause, viz., the decay of parental control. … They (women) will be true guardians of the State in its public morals. [105] Public sexual immorality, the police were advised, would still be evident after the war ended and would need their help to continue to regulate. In this, he appealed for the use of women police as the guardians of public morality and substitute mothers, as well as policemen giving the kind of strict discipline needed of fathers. The Police Review told its readers to expect these “social ills” to continue, as they had become deeply embedded in

Policing sexual morality  185 society with the loss of family during the war. To at least the end of the war, the police continued to be taught through the pages of their journal how to recognise prostitution, with links to vagrancy, and how to secure a prosecution: “To sustain a charge against a prostitute what evidence is necessary – (a) under the Vagrancy Act, (b) under section 54(ii) of the Police Act” [106]. In conclusion, the discourse of sexual morality caused the police and the British authorities great difficulty during the war by trying to control sexual immorality. The discourse undoubtedly caused a moral panic not only in Britain but also throughout the empire. Starting with the social disgrace of khaki fever, the discourse developed to include the moral panic around unmarried mothers, illegal abortions and the spread of venereal disease. The measures that developed to deal with sexual immorality brought in the government, religious, women’s and voluntary organisations and the police to try to combat the portrayal of the social evils. The spread of venereal disease, even before the war, was seen to need a Royal Commission, which started its work in 1913 to “inquire into the prevalence of venereal diseases in the United Kingdom, their effect upon the health of the community, and the means by which those effects can be alleviated or prevented” [107]. Following the publication of the Royal Commission report in 1916, with emphasis on treatment within hospitals and other special facilities, venereal disease was portrayed as everyone’s business as everyone who was affected by the disease should seek treatment, spreading the word widely into the community that this was the right thing to do for the sake of the future of the nation and the empire. Venereal disease, in particular, was no longer a class issue, as many of the soldiers who contracted it from the Dominions were said to be the sons of the best people in the nation. From the outset of war, the perceived level of sexual immorality caused a problem for the police because of their difficulty in distinguishing between who was a prostitute and who was not. The police knew there were wellknown locations in which prostitutes could be found, such as in houses of ill repute (common lodging houses), for which the police had responsibility for keeping a register and for surveillance; otherwise, prostitutes could only definitely be known to the police through a previous conviction. The signs on the body which had previously indicated a prostitute, such as their clothing and behaviour, were no longer reliable indicators, as many women and young girls were portrayed as having developed similar behaviours on the streets, put down to the excitement of the war and the lack of parental control. Furthermore, the police were haunted by their history of wrongful arrests, stretching back to the 1880s, where individual officers had been severely reprimanded, lost their chances of promotion and brought the whole of the police as an organisation into disrepute through the portrayal of wrongful arrests. The moral outcry of illegitimacy stretched back beyond the nineteenth century, seen as the result of sexual immorality, it was then said to cause social degeneration, but during the war, illegitimacy changed

186  Policing sexual morality its meaning from social degeneration of the nation to the control of women not only of the working classes but also of the middle classes. Wrongful arrests caused not only a public outcry but also involvement of government and women’s organisations, which accused the police of having too much power, leading to threats to the institution of policing, when a woman’s innocence was upheld in court. Therefore, the amateur girl was continually portrayed as a challenge to control by the police, which made many policemen claim that controlling their activities was not their role. This saw the rise of women police, many of whom did not have the powers of arrest, but who could watch suspected women for signs of soliciting and prostitution which could be relayed to a policeman to make an arrest. However, much of the help given by women police and patrols was portrayed by the police as dealing with the amateur girls by surveillance and persuading them not to become involved in sexual immorality; this was claimed by police officials to be effective in controlling the spread of venereal disease to the troops. But by 1917, the amateur girls were portrayed as causing more than 70% of the spread of venereal disease, making prostitution a minor part of the problem of sexual immorality. Publication of the report of The Commission on Venereal Disease in 1916 fuelled public concern at the magnitude of the diseases and how to contain and cure sufferers. It brought in many organisations, including the military, local authorities, hospitals and the police, to spread the word widely that treatment should be sought; nobody should be left untouched by the message, as protection of uninfected people should be prevented. The police said they had a role in spreading the word to less visible groups and individuals that treatment was available and should be taken up. This role of rooting out everyone who had venereal disease was important for the police, as its consequences were seen to affect the future of the nation, with diseased and crippled children, rekindling fears of the degeneration of the nation, as well as the current costs of segregating deformed children born as a result of infected parents. Furthermore, the portrayal of infected soldiers being less vigorous in battle or having to spend large amounts of time in treatment, threatened the fighting potential of the armed forces. The prevalence of venereal disease also caused huge international tensions with the Dominions, who sent deputations in 1917 and 1918 to the British government protesting at the state of the streets and railway stations, particularly in London, which they said lured their troops into danger and robbed them of their earnings. The pressure put by the Dominions to clear up the streets of London and other large cities pressurised the government into creating ill-considered and highly controversial legislation under DORA, which was quickly withdrawn after the war as being unworkable [108]. The solution of segregating women with the disease into a facility away from the rest of society was seen as unworkable not only in Britain but also in the Dominions due to the public outcry this would cause, particularly from women’s organisations. The moral panic of venereal disease beyond the end

Policing sexual morality  187 of the war into demobilisation anticipated that innocent wives would become infected by their returning husbands. The police joined in the urge to persuade returning soldiers to seek treatment for venereal disease.

Notes 1 The military authorities insisted men who contracted venereal disease while in the army had to divulge this on threat of punishment. The disclosure led to a period of admission to hospital where treatment with Salvarsan made them feel unwell and also unavailable for military service, which frustrated the aims of the military authorities. 2 Under the Contagious Diseases Acts of 1864, amended 1866 and 1869, a woman suspected of being a prostitute in certain locations, particularly around military camps, could be arrested by the police, medically examined and if found to have a venereal disease could be confined in a locked hospital. The Acts were constantly criticised as infringements of human rights, as men were not also subjected to such treatment. Continual public agitation led to the Acts being repealed in 1886 [101].

References 1 The Board of Trade Labour Gazette, Work of the Board of Trade Local Advisory Committees upon Women’s War Employment. November 1916, p. 403. 2 Grayzel, S. R. (2013) Women and the First World War. Abingdon: Routledge. 3 The Police Review, Education for Promotion: Lesson No. 1,126. Examination in Police Duties. 23 March 1917, p. 91. 4 Grayzel, S. R. (1999) ‘The Enemy Within: The Problem of British Women’s Sexuality during the First World War’. In Dombrowski, N. A. (ed.), Women and War in the Twentieth Century: Enlisted with or without consent. New York and London: Garland Publishing Inc. Chapter 4, pp. 73–89. 5 Woollacott, A. (1994) “Khaki Fever” and Its Control: Gender, Class, Age and Sexual Morality on the British Home Front in the First World War. Journal of Contemporary History 29, 325–347. 6 Beckett, I. F. W. (2013) The Great War 1914–1918. 2nd edition. London: Routledge. 7 The Police Review, Women Patrol Movement: Suggested outcome of the work in Birmingham. 25 January 1915, p. 302. 8 Woollacott, A. (1994) op. cit. 9 The Police Review, Policewomen and Women Patrols. 2 July 1915, p. 319. 10 The Police Review, Women Police Movement: Sympathetic Press Comments. 15 October 1915, p. 494. 11 The Police Review, Women Police Movement: where women can be usefully employed. 15 October 1915, p. 494. 12 The Police Review, Women Police and Patrols: Their work in Carlisle. 23 February 1917, p. 64. 13 The Police Review, Sir Edward Henry and Women Patrols: Home Office Support for new movement. 25 June 1915, p. 297. 14 The Police Review, Appointment of Women Urged at Perth. 30 July 1915, p. 369. 15 The Police Review, Women Police: Lady Nott-Bower’s Address to the Chief Constable’s Association. 14 June 1918, pp. 189–191. 16 The Police Review, Women Police and Patrols: Opposition to patrols at Swansea. 9 July 1915, p. 335.

188  Policing sexual morality 17 The Police Review, An Address to Police Recruits. 1 October 1915, p. 477. 18 The Police Review, An Address to Police Recruits. 1 October 1915, p. 477. 19 The Police Review, Notes and Comments. 2 March 1917, p. 69. 20 See ITV Meridian News, 7 April 1917. Remembering Canada’s Fallen Soldiers in Shorncliffe. 21 TNA HO45/10802 307990. Measures for dealing with prostitutes (n.d.) shows how the attention of the Home Office was brought by the military authorities. 22 Beaupré, D. (2007/2008) En Route to Flanders Fields: The Canadians at Shorncliffe during The Great War. London Journal of Canadian Studies 23, 45–65. 23 TNA HO45/10802 307990. Measures for dealing with Prostitutes, p. 5. 24 Wynn, S. (2017) Folkestone in the Great War. Barnsley: Pen and Sword Military. 25 Correspondence concerning the desire for special regulations (13B) for treating venereal disease in Folkestone (1916). 3AMS/B/05/01. London School of Economics, The Women’s Library. 26 Levine, P. (2003) Prostitution, Race, and Politics: Policing Venereal Disease in the British Empire. New York and London: Routledge. 27 Folkestone, Hythe, Sandgate and Cheriton Herald. 4 March 1916, p. 2. I am grateful to Dr William Butler, First World War Schools Project Officer in the Partnership Development Office of the University of Kent, for a copy of this article. 28 Laite, J. (2012) Common Prostitutes and Ordinary Citizens: Commercial Sex in London 1885–1960. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, p. 122. 29 TNA HO45/10802 307990. 30 Defence of the Realm Manual op. cit. p. 92. 31 TNA HO45/10802 307990. Letter from the Chief Constable of Grantham to the Under Secretary of State, Home Office. 26 April 1917. 32 The Police Review, Examination Questions. 15 February 1918, p. 51. 33 TNA HO45/10802 307990. Letter to Herbert Samuel, Home Secretary. 5 August 1916. 34 Beckett, I. F. W. (2007) The Great War 1914–1918. 2nd edition. Harlow: Pearson Education Limited, p. 460. Beckett said that the total increase in women in work between 1914 and 1918 was around 1.4 million, which takes account of women moving from one type of work to work more directly related to the war effort. 35 Grayzel, S. R. (2013) op. cit. 36 The Police Review, Women Police and Patrols: Their work in Carlisle. 23 February 1917, p. 64. 37 Beckett, I. F. W. (2013) 2nd edition op. cit. See also the Daily Express, 22 April 1915, with alarmist news to the population to expect thousands of war babies to unmarried mothers. The Manchester Guardian carried similar alarmist articles. 38 Grayzel, S. R. (1997) ‘The Mothers of Our Soldiers’ Children: Motherhood, Immorality and the War Baby Scandal, 1914–1918’. In Nelson, C. & Holmes, A. S. (eds), Maternal Instincts: Visions of Motherhood and Sexuality in Britain 1875–1925. Basingstoke: Macmillan. Chapter 7, pp. 122–140. 39 The Police Review, The Police and the War: Women Patrols: Edinburgh. 17 March 1916, p. 126. 40 Beckett, I. (2013) Home Front 1914–1918: How Britain Survived the Great War. A&C Black Business Information and Development. Pankhurst in the Home Front puts the number of illegitimate births in 1911–1914 at 43 per 1,000 births, rising to 52 per 1,000 births between 1915 and 1918, while the rate in Scotland remained the same throughout the war at 73 per 1,000. 41 Eighty Second Annual Report of the Registrar General for England and Wales, 1919. 42 Evening Standard, Not so many war babies? 11 June 1915. The Evening Standard in late April 1915 also told its readers that the spectre of moral decline was more indicative of changing gender roles than an actual decrease in moral standards.

Policing sexual morality  189 43 The Police Review, Viva Voce Examination. 28 March 1918, p. 107. 44 The Police Review, Viva Voce Examination. 10 December 1915, p. 593. 45 The Police Review, Examination Questions, 4 February 1916, p. 53, was “State all you know about the offence of ‘Abortion.’” 46 The Police Review, Examination Questions, 18 February 1916, p. 77, was “Concealment of birth – What is this offence? Give the salient points necessary to prove such a case.” 47 The Police Review, Police Law and Practice: Questions and Answers. 13756. ­Miscarriage – Procuring. 9 March 1917, p. 74. 48 Offences against the Person Act 1861. (1861) Chapter 100 24 and 25 Vict. 6 August 1861. 49 The Police Review, Women Police: Lady Nott-Bower’s Address to the Chief Constable’s Association. 14 June 1918, pp. 189–191. 50 The Police Review, Women Police: Lady Nott-Bower’s Address to the Chief Constable’s Association. 14 June 1918, pp. 189–191. 51 The Police Review, The Duties of Women Police. 5 July 1918, p. 214. 52 Report of the Royal Commission on Venereal Disease. Cd 8190. 53 Maude Royden, A. (1916) Report of the Royal Commission on Venereal Disease. International Journal of Ethics 27, 171–188. 54 TNA HO45/10802 307990. Prevention and Treatment of Venereal Diseases. October 1917. 55 TNA HO45/10802 307990. Local Government Board circulars and letters to Councils, Hospitals and Boards of Guardians. 56 White Paper, Cd. No. 8509 House of Commons Debates, 23 April 1917, vol 92, cc2074–2077. 57 Cooper, J. (2017) The British Welfare Revolution. London: Bloomsbury Academic, p. 234. 58 The Police Review, Vice and Disease. A new Police mission. 9 March 1917, p. 79. 59 Royal Commission on Venereal Disease op. cit, p. 46. 60 TNA HO45/10802 307990. Letter from Sir Francis Fox to Lloyd George. 25 February 1917. 61 The Police Review, Education for Promotion: Lesson No. 1,123. Police Duties. 2 March 1917, p. 67. 62 The Police Review, The Criminal Law Amendment Act. 2 March 1917, p. 69. 63 The Police Review, The Criminal Law Amendment Act. 2 March 1917, p. 69. 64 The Police Review, The Criminal Law Amendment Act. 2 March 1917, p. 69. 65 Defence of the Realm Manual, Revised to 28 February 1918. London: HMSO, p. 128. 66 The Police Review The Criminal Law Amendment Act. 2 March 1917 p. 69. 67 The Police Review The Criminal Law Amendment Act. March 2nd 1917 p. 69. 68 Dr Arthur Newsome of the Local Government Board estimated there were 54,000 cases of venereal disease in the 1.5 million troops in England between January and August 1915. TNA HO 45/10724/251861/89. 69 Captain Frederic Guest, Member of Parliament for East Dorset, House of Commons Debates. 23 April 1917, vol 92, cc 2090. 70 Laite, J. (2012) op. cit, p. 122. 71 The Police Review, Metro Police Blunder: Painful ordeal of two women. 4 May 1917, p. 142. 72 The Police Review, The Criminal Law Amendment Bill. 4 May 1917, p. 141. 73 Charman, T. (2014) op. cit, p. 125, shows the speech given by Sir Edward Henry to the National Vigilance Association Conference in June 1917 portraying fines for 90% of girls and women taken to court for soliciting as insufficient to stop the practice. 74 Commander Wedgwood. House of Commons Debates, 13 November 1917, vol 99, c226.

190  Policing sexual morality 75 Criminal Law Amendment Bills 1917, 1918 and 1920. 3AMS/B/04/03. London School of Economics, The Women’s Library. 76 TNA HO45/10802 307990. Telegram from the Governor General of Australia to the Commonwealth Office, 20 February 1917. Letter replying to the Governor General’s telegram 6 March 1917 to the Under-Secretary of State for the Colonial Office. 77 TNA HO45/10802 307990. Letter to the Home Office from W. R. Birdwood. 17 April 1917. 78 TNA HO45/10802 307990. Imperial War Conference: Temptations of Overseas Soldiers in London. 24 April 1917, p. 17. 79 TNA HO45/10802 307990. Imperial War Conference: Temptations of Overseas Soldiers in London. 27 April 1917. 80 Morning Post, Conduct of Overseas Troops. 31 July 1917. 81 TNA HO45/10802 307990. Mr Barclay (Washington) to the Home Office. 2 ­November 1917. 82 TNA HO45/10802 307990. War Cabinet 352 and 365. Extracts from the minutes of the War Cabinet meetings, Friday 22 February and Wednesday 13 March 1918. 83 Defence of the Realm Regulations (Monthly Edition) London: HMSO. March 1918, p. 68. TNA HO45/10802 307990. 22 March 1918, Royal Proclamation amending Defence of the Realm Acts. 84 TNA HO45/10802 307990. Imperial War Conference. Temptations of Overseas Troops. 19 July 1918. 85 TNA HO45/10802 307990. ibid. 86 Levine, P. (2003) Prostitution, Race and Politics: Policing Venereal Disease in the British Empire. New York and London: Routledge, p. 162. 87 Lammasniemi, L. (2017) Regulation 40D: Punishing Promiscuity on the Home Front during the First World War. Women’s History Review 26, 4, pp. 584–596. Venereal diseases 2: Defence Regulation 40D 3/AMS/B/05/02. London School of Economics: The Women’s Library. 88 Venereal Disease. 3/AMS/B/05/02. London School of Economics: The Women’s Library. 89 Charman, T. (2014) The First World War on the Home Front. London: Imperial War Museum, pp. 123–124. 90 Robb, G. (2017) British Culture & the First World War. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, p. 81. 91 Charman, T. (2014) The First World War on the Home Front. Op. cit. 92 House of Commons Debates, 24 July 1918, vol 108, cc1953. 93 House of Commons Debates, 24 July 1918, vol 108, cc1955. 94 Venereal Disease. 3/AMS/B/05/02. London School of Economics: The Women’s Library London: Imperial War Museum. 95 TNA HO 45/10962A/343889. The Home Secretary, accompanied by Sir Edward Troup, the Commissioner of Police, Sir Ernley Blackwell, and Mr Simpson, received the deputation on Thursday. 25 July 1918. 96 The Police Review, War’s Aftermath. 23 August 1918, p. 270. 97 See TNA WO 32/11401-4. 98 TNA HO45/10802 307990. Powers of the police. 99 Slater, S. (2012) Lady Astor and the Ladies of the Night: The Home Office, the Metropolitan Police and the Politics of the Street Offences Committee, 1927–1928. Law and History Review 30, 2, 533–573.

Policing sexual morality  191 100 The Police Review, Metro Police Blunder: Painful ordeal of two women. 4 May 1917, p. 142. 101 Walkowitz, J. R. (1980). Prostitution and Victorian Society: Women, Class, and the State. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, p. 360. 102 Bartley, P. (2000) Prostitution: Prevention and Reform in England, 1860–1914. London and New York: Routledge, pp. 163–164. TNA HO45/10802 307990. Notes of meeting 22 August 1916. 103 Petrow, S. (1994) Policing Morals: The Metropolitan Police and the Home Office 1870–1914. Oxford: Clarendon Press. 104 TNA HO45/10802 307990, Memo from CRJ. 22 August 1916. 105 The Police Review, Women Service in the Police. 12 April 1918, p. 117. 106 The Police Review, Our Education Column. 16 August 1918, p. 259. 107 Report of the Royal Commission on Venereal Disease. Cd 8190. 108 TNA HO45/10894 359931. Home Office letter to Chief Constables. Defence of the Realm Regulations: Revocation. 26 November 1918.

10 The police as ploughmen and farm workers

The discourse of the need to produce home-grown food, starting in The Police Review in 1916, portrayed the nation as liable to starve unless more food could be produced at home. Many factors had led to Britain seeing itself as unable to support its population in food during the war, so that state control was needed to streamline farming into providing an adequate amount of food to feed the nation. Government set up local and national bodies that sourced manpower, equipment and fertilisers, so that policemen became temporary ploughmen and farm workers nationwide, and to advise farmers which land they should plough up to create sufficient quantities of prescribed raw materials to feed the people. At local levels, government also encouraged everyone to grow vegetables and food products on allotments by releasing land, ploughing up parks and showing that high-level public figures grew crops in their gardens. Local government also supervised the crops that were grown on the land released for allotments. The need to produce home-grown food also led to everyone monitoring each other’s allotment produce for quality and yield. Britain’s arable farming had been in decline since the late nineteenth century, when the nation was largely self-sufficient in food. This decline was said to be mainly due to the policies of free trade. By December 1915, ­Britain was importing 8,990,500 Cwts. (hundredweight)1 of wheat and 665,900 Cwts. of wheatmeal and flour per month mainly from the United States and ­Canada [1]. The country had transferred most of its corn growing to the United States, Canada and other distant countries, where they could be grown more cheaply and transported easily; estimates put these imports at 81% of consumption [2]. Whereas livestock could not be transported so easily and if killed before transportation needed ships and transport able to chill or freeze the meat, this made it easier to eat meat that was grown at home. In the United Kingdom by 1913, 36 million acres were devoted to livestock and only 3 million acres to crops such as grain and potatoes, so that farmers produced the entire nation’s milk and three-fifths of the meat but only one-fifth of the bread [3]. The decline of arable farming came to the fore and was exacerbated during the war. Under the Asquith government (April 1908–December 1916),

The police as ploughmen and farm workers  193 the focus had been on the increasing need to recruit sufficient soldiers and sailors to fight the war, so that agriculture lost many of its fit, young skilled labour. In the early months of the war, this was often due to the glamour of volunteering combined with a sense of patriotism, increased pay compared with earnings in farming and the lack of career prospects in farm labour. Some protection was given to farm workers from autumn 1915, as skilled agricultural workers were a starred occupation under the Derby Scheme – to be considered as indispensable civilian workers who would not be accepted into the armed forces, but they could “attest” their willingness to serve and would then be placed on a reserve list. However, the ordinary farm labourer was excluded from the list of indispensable civilians. But, with the failure of the Derby Scheme, conscription was introduced in the Military Service Act 1916. The continuing threat to the country of young, fit, skilled farm workers being called into the army by conscription led to those workers and farmers who wished to be exempted from military service having to apply to a military service tribunal for exemption before the start of March 1916, similar to the police (see Chapter 8). The problem for government of home food production in wartime was portrayed as twofold: 1 From April 1915, the gross tonnage of shipping sunk by submarines started to increase worryingly, increasing further as 1915 progressed and further still in 1916 to over a million gross tons, more than half the world tonnage, with a rapid increase in the last three months of 1916 reaching the high point in February 1917 (discussed later). 2 Farms were privately owned, with each farmer developing his land according to his skill, character, tastes and capital; the best farms were those that made the best profit. By 1915, the War Office was seen as already recruiting too many men from agriculture so that previously efficient farms were unable to produce sufficient foodstuffs, whereas other farms became inefficient, leading to farming by private enterprise being portrayed as unable to produce sufficient food to feed the nation, so that government assumed “direction of the industry, and create(d) an elaborate organization to make its control and assistance as effective as possible” [4]. To stimulate production and streamline growing food in the nation’s interest, farming was to be under state control. To continue to protect their status and encourage farmers to increase their acreage under crops, Lord Selborne, President of the Board of Agriculture, established County War Agricultural Committees in collaboration with the Board of Agriculture and County Councils. They, in turn, set up local District Committees. Both County and District Committees were large voluntary bodies set up by County and District Councils; they comprised councillors, farmers with large farms and farming associations, local MPs, education authorities and county ladies. The district committees had local

194  The police as ploughmen and farm workers knowledge, visited farms and worked closely with farmers to assess their needs, advise them how they could increase productivity and which parts of their land they could turn over to arable farming. The County Committees planned the means to assist farmers, including with manpower. Where records still exist, they show the resistance and questioning by farmers of this surveillance, the advice they were given and even the goodwill of the members of the committees [5]. The challenge for agriculture to protect skilled farm workers from being conscripted was put to the Man-Power Distribution Board in September 1916 by Lord Crawford, successor to Lord Selborne as President of the Board of Agriculture. He claimed that if home-grown food supply was considered to be an essential part of the war effort at home, sufficient men must be left on the land, particularly to maintain the arable acreage [6]; this was in the light of fit, young farm workers being specifically targeted by army recruitment officers at agricultural fairs with a significant number signing up. Adding to Britain’s woes by needing to produce more home-grown food with decreasing numbers of skilled agricultural workers was the poor harvest in autumn 1916, and the decreased wheat harvest in the United States and Canada, making a world deficit; all countries were less able to export grain supplies to Britain, while wheat production in Britain was only said to be sufficient to last for 4 months of normal consumption. Furthermore, the particularly wet, cold soil in Britain affected not only the planting of winter wheat, but also the potato crop, which became diseased and rotted in the ground (see also Chapter 6). This was in addition to insufficient labour in some parts of Britain to lift the surviving crops [7]. The situation with wheat supplies was portrayed at the end of October 1916 in a memorandum to the War Cabinet by Lord Crawford, who also described the labour shortage: Great efforts are also being made to secure further dilution of agricultural labour and the employment of women; but unless the labour scale is maintained at, approximately its present level – in many counties it has already been largely reduced – land will go derelict, yield will decline, and livestock must be greatly diminished. [8] The dilution of agricultural labour by less skilled workers and women was initially seen very negatively by farmers as they said it lowered efficiency. Women on the land were initially ridiculed by farmers and not allowed onto some farms [9,10], although their use eventually modified farmers’ prejudices [11]. Furthermore, around 60,000 applications to tribunals for exemptions from military service from skilled farm workers were refused in the autumn of 1916, but their reprieve until January 1917 was secured so that ploughing and sowing could be completed [12]. On 4 October 1916, a letter from the War Office to District and Area Military Recruiting Officers stated that no more men were to be recruited from

The police as ploughmen and farm workers  195 agriculture until 1 January 1917 or if they were employed full-time in milk production, until 1 April 1917. The exception to recruiting young fit agricultural workers was where they were replaced by men released by the army specifically for agricultural work. The letter also specified the number of skilled able-bodied men that were seen to be needed for different kinds of farming work [13], implying the surplus would be “combed out.” However, many of the replacement men released by the army were classified as C3 (only suitable for sedentary work), and most were also unaccustomed to agriculture, as well as being strangers to the farmers and so not trusted until proving themselves able. This caused much discontent amongst farmers [14], as Rowland Prothero, President of the Board of Agriculture since December 1916, told the War Cabinet in February 1917: The position of agriculture is serious. The confidence of the farmer has been dangerously disturbed during the last two months. Unless it is restored, and restored immediately, production will shrink, and the country will be left with a very diminished supply of home-grown food for 1917. [15] He portrayed farmers, by December 1916, to be disillusioned as their skilled manpower had seen losses of more than a third of the workforce and skilled ploughmen were scarce as these men had been attracted into the army, navy or munitions work. Furthermore, the uncertainty of being able to retain those who were left was disheartening. Tribunals were told they should exempt men from military service if they had been certified as working in agriculture, which had been included in the list of Certified Occupations since 7 July 1916 as work of national importance [16]. Farmers were also told that lists of suitable men with previous experience of farm work were being prepared to allow for substitution from January 1917, so that farmers could release their fit, young farm workers; Military Substitution Officers called at farms to assess whether any of the workers portrayed as suitable by the army, could be substituted – farming, similar to the police, would be combed out [17–19]. Between October and the end of December 1916, the brief respite in army recruitment from agriculture allowed a more thorough assessment of the farming situation. Estimates of the number of men lost from agriculture up to December 1916 showed widely differing figures, for example, Lord Derby’s estimate of 180,000 (around 23% of the workforce) and the Board of Trade’s estimate of 216,000 [20]. The largest estimate was from the Board of Agriculture in October 1916, which calculated using Board of Trade surveys that around 350,000 (around 45% of the workforce) had left agriculture in England and Wales since the start of the war [21], although as Dewey says, “The apparent precision of such statements is misleading; the government had no means of knowing precisely how many men had left agriculture”

196  The police as ploughmen and farm workers [22]. To provide statistics on the amount of labour remaining in agriculture and the type of agriculture that was being undertaken by area, a survey of all land parcelled into more than five acres and those working on it was developed by the Man-Power Distribution Board. On 7 November 1916, the Home Office wrote to all Chief Constables in England and Wales at the behest of the Army Council asking the police to distribute the survey forms to all farms of five acres or above and to collect the completed returns. The survey was to discover “whether or not more men employed in agriculture in any district could be spared for the Army, or whether in any districts the available labour has already become unduly depleted.” A similar request was sent in Scotland. Completion of the survey was a requirement for all eligible farmers under the Defence of the Realm Act (Article 3), with penalties for non-completion [23]. The letter accompanying the forms that specified the returns included the following: (a) the land included in the holding, (b) live stock of all kinds, (c) workers now employed on the farm, including the farmer and all members of his family over 15 years of age, who reside on the farm, (d) casual labour employed, (e) male workers formerly employed who have left since August 4th, 1914 to join the Army. [24] Returns were to be collected after 15 November 1916. They enumerated the number of holdings over 5 acres in each county in England, Wales and Scotland, but no further analysis was found. With the change in government on 10 December 1916 and Rowland Prothero’s appointment as President of the Board of Agriculture, he told the County War Agricultural Committees that “the reason that we have not so much food at the present time is that we are not making the best use of the land” [25]. This led to the campaign to increase home food production, known as the “plough policy,” which rested on three assumptions: 1 An extension of arable acreage: The basis for this was that land which grew crops for human consumption could support at least four times more people than the same acreage used for grazing livestock on average quality grass. 2 Compulsory powers, which Prothero said were “drastic” but justified by the emergency of war: Regulation 2L of the Defence of the Realm Act gave authorities access to unoccupied land and Regulation 2M gave powers to inspect land, enforce cultivation orders and to take over the running of land if the occupier was unable or unwilling to comply; farmers who failed to comply with the Committee’s Notices would receive a fine or imprisonment, with no appeal allowed. 3 Decentralisation, by reconstruction of the County War Agricultural Committees to form County Agricultural Executive Committees of

The police as ploughmen and farm workers  197 between four and seven people responsible for implementing the Board of Agriculture policies [26]. The compulsory powers led to the seizure and re-letting of land classified as badly farmed [27]. Prime Minister Lloyd George demonstrated the situation in the House of Commons on 19th December 1916 every available square yard must be made to produce food. The labour available for tillage should not be turned to more ornamental purposes until the food necessities of the country have been adequately safeguarded. The best use must be made of land and of labour to increase the food supplies of this country—corn, potatoes, and all kinds of food products. All those who have the opportunity must feel it is their duty to the State to assist in producing and in contributing. [28] The emphasis on growing crops as food for human consumption was because crops grown to feed animals went to sustain the animals, rather than in the production of meat or milk. The plough policy led to the reduction of grassland in favour of tilling the soil. However, despite the portrayal of farming being in crisis due to the loss of labour from the land, the needs of the Army dominated. Immediately after the embargo on recruitment from agriculture ended in January 1917 and with a new government in power, agreement was secured in the War Cabinet to a further release of 100,000 men from key industries on a quota basis: 50,000 from munitions, 30,000 from agriculture and 20,000 from coal mining. This led to protests from many directions: from the Board of Agriculture, Rowland Prothero told the Council of National Unionists that he was not responsible for the quota and he was reported by Philip Morrell, Member of Parliament for Burnley, to tell the Farmers’ Club in London that the agricultural quota was a staggering blow for him: Suddenly, like a coup d’état, within twenty-four hours, wholly without warning, you have the War Office stating that they are going to take 30,000 more men from agriculture. Then the President of the Board of Agriculture, the man who ought to be chiefly concerned, on a public platform stated that it came to him as a staggering blow, and to the farmers whom he addressed it also came as a staggering blow. [29] Other protests came from landowners who were concerned with the diminishing supply of skilled labour on the land when they were committed to increase the acreage of land under cultivation [30]. Lloyd George showed his concern for feeding the nation, particularly with the resumption of German submarine attacks on ships bringing food supplies to Britain in February 1917 and the alarm that submarine attacks had caused the nation in the

198  The police as ploughmen and farm workers last three months of 1916. He halted the manpower quota from agriculture with agreement in the War Cabinet on 22 January to provide 15,000 substitutes from the Home Defence Forces to offset the eventual withdrawal of the quota into the army from agriculture [31]. However, for the farmers, this did not overcome the problem that few of the substitutes had experience of ploughing. Much of the land identified to be ploughed was pasture, which needed specialist ploughing skills and great physical strength to turn soil as it had not been ploughed for many decades, if ever, and was therefore very compact and heavy, so that novice substitute workers would have been quite unable to control the plough and were described by farmers as useless. This dispute preceded the forthcoming general call of men for military service, which was likely to be attractive to farm workers, due to their poor wages. Therefore, to ask that the needs of agriculture should receive special attention was not seen by Rowland Prothero as a benefit to farming manpower. He portrayed the situation of the state of British Farming as depressing: The outlook in December 1916, was not hopeful. Everywhere a shortage of skilled men was acute. Considerably more than a third had already left the land for service in the navy, army or munitions factories. Ploughmen were scarce. [32] He also noted that farm machinery, horses to pull ploughs and the craftsmen to repair equipment and shoe horses were in short supply, as was the availability of fertilisers, mainly nitrate imported from Chile. In short, he showed farming was in no state to be able to increase home food supply. To attempt to offset the effects of the agricultural quota, in February 1917 the National Service Department under Neville Chamberlain tried to obtain volunteers to work on the land from industries portrayed as less essential. Lloyd George saw that the role of the National Service Department was to distribute manpower to where it was most needed. He demonstrated this in the House of Commons shortly after his appointment as Prime Minister that every man not in the army must be used to best advantage where the need was greatest: we ought to have the power to say that every man who is not taken into the Army, whatever his position or rank, really is employed on work of national importance. … I was constantly appealed to as Secretary of State for War to release men for agricultural work. The Army Council and those in charge were quite prepared to do so, but there was absolutely no guarantee that, if the men were released (from the army), they would be used for agricultural purposes … The moment they were released from the Army they were free to go to munition work or to any other work where they thought they could sell their labour to the best advantage. [33]

The police as ploughmen and farm workers  199 Lloyd George advised Rowland Prothero to request the Volunteer Home Army to provide working parties of men classified as unfit for military service and also to look for other sources of volunteers for agricultural work [34]. However, although many volunteered, only a few were employed; the remainder were said to be unsuitable, which characterised some of the impotence of the Department of National Service under Neville Chamberlain. But temporary assistance was available; one source was from the Metropolitan Police, who supplied 150 policemen, who had previously worked in agriculture before working in the police, to work as ploughmen and who were said to be good and were portrayed by Prothero to be a bit of a windfall [35,36], as well as the Secretary of State for Scotland saying that soldiers had been sent to work on farms from 21 January for 3 months [37]. The Police Review shows that Edinburgh police also volunteered for 3 months, from April 1917, during the planting season, in response to the request by the National Service Department: About 50 Edinburgh Policemen volunteered under the National Service scheme to work on the land, and they are now nearly all back, filled with tales of their adventures. A few were allocated to Aberdeenshire, and had rather unpleasant experiences. One tells that he had to tramp eleven miles to a farm only to be told that the vacancy there had been filled. Then he was sent to another farm, where the canny tenant professed his inability to pay the wages arranged under the scheme. He was offered a few shillings per week by a widow on another farm. Other (sic) three Constables has similar experiences. The men are not enthusiastic about the housing conditions or the frugal dietary provided. They stayed in primitive bothies, which the Aberdeen agriculturists call “chambers,” and found them cold, damp, and not exactly weather proof. The daily menu was monotonous. Breakfast consisted of old-fashioned brose of the consistency of clay, dinner of potatoes and milk or rice or sago twice a week, and tea of tea (sic) in bowls and buttered bannocks of oatmeal. The Policemen looked bronzed and very fit all the same. [38] The first paragraph shows some farmers offers of help being viewed with scepticism if volunteers had no or limited agricultural experience; farmers were portrayed as wanting to continue to work with the people they knew and trusted, rather than with strangers. The policemen were also shown as unhappy with the arrangements, not only finding it difficult to be accepted as able to provide a service and being paid adequately for their work, but also once they found work. The second paragraph shows the gulf between those living in central Scotland to those living further north, seeing them as antiquated and disliking living away from home in rustic rural conditions which were evidently unacceptable to them. If, like Glasgow, many of the

200  The police as ploughmen and farm workers Edinburgh police had originally come from the north of Scotland [39], their return there was unwelcome. Furthermore, no agreement had been reached at this time that their pay would be safeguarded. However, the journal supported their work by impressing on its readers the health benefits that resulted; but it showed the improvements that needed to be made to encourage other policemen with agricultural experience to volunteer for such work. The Chief Constable of Edinburgh was able to claim in his annual report for 1917 that his release of policemen for agriculture had a dual benefit: they were able to assist in cultivation and also, when they returned to the police, it allowed another 50 men to be released into the army: The Chief Constable of Edinburgh’s Annual Report shows 50 men released for agricultural work and on their return 50 other men were released to the forces. [40] This portrayed the Chief Constable’s support for the policy of release to the army and gave an example to other forces to do the same. The agreement to agricultural work by the Edinburgh police and other Forces in Scotland was raised in the House of Commons in March 1917 when Members of Parliament were told that Local Authorities in Scotland had temporarily released their employees with ploughing experience to work on the land, which had been reported in the press. It allowed the Secretary of State for Scotland to claim in April 1917 that the farming needs in Scotland had been fully met, as all farmers who had applied to the Department of National Service for a ploughman had been offered one; the Department was said to have distributed 2,000 workers for agriculture around Scotland with a promise of a further 250 skilled agricultural workers to be lent by Local Authorities later in the season [41]. Full-time War Agricultural Volunteers throughout Britain were supplied to farmers in priority order according to the perceived importance of the vacancy. They entered into an agreement with the Department of National Service to undertake agricultural work for up to a year and had to be accepted by the employer as suitable for the vacancy. These full-time volunteers had to be either over 45 years of age, or if under 45, had been categorised as unfit for military service [42]. However, there were many other workers, such as policemen, who were only temporarily employed in agricultural work and who did not have to undergo this selection procedure and therefore were allocated to farms in a less formal manner. The Parliamentary Secretary to the Local Government Board William Hayes-Fisher hoped that this news from Scotland would stimulate similar action in England and Wales. However, Dewey showed that the ratio of permanent grass to land under cultivation was far larger in the North West of England and in Wales (3.77 and 4.27, respectively) than in Scotland where the ratio was 0.81 [43], demonstrating that in Scotland there was relatively little permanent grassland compared

The police as ploughmen and farm workers  201 with ploughed land, making it easier to show an increase in the amount of land under tillage. But the tensions between agricultural work on the home front for fit, young men and the lure of being recruited into the army continued. Members of Parliament from around Britain wanted assurances that the War Office would not “seize” these men when they appeared on the farms, as they were sorely needed in the national effort to increase food production. Members of Parliament appealed to the War Office that it was much easier to keep the men at home rather than to bring them back once they had been sent overseas; tribunals should be directed likewise [44]. This plea came from many quarters with frequent questions in the House of Commons [45]. On 20 March 1917, Liberal Member of Parliament Henry Watt voiced these fears, referring to the tribunal in Perthshire which he said had called men to the army for 5 April. The Secretary for Scotland said he would investigate [46]. Others gave examples of where labour had been removed, often at very short notice, with substitutes of highly questionable quality, as George Lambert, Member of Parliament for South Molton, Devon, graphically portrayed: I have here three cases which appeared in the “Times” newspaper on 27 February. The first is a farm of 216 acres, 30 acres arable, 75 cows, 14 horses, 75 ewes, 2 store pigs, 7 miles from a station. The farmer had a son, who was rejected (by the military). He has now been re-examined and accepted. The farmer had three men, and if this young fellow is taken, as I understand he is to be, the farmer will be left with himself, who has a broken arm, and a daughter aged seventeen. … the next case. A widow over seventy-two years of age farms 72 acres, 27 cows, 3 horses, 16 sheep. One man has been with her for seven years, and he does everything. This man has been taken. The military claimed him and offered a substitute, who turns out to be an artist and journalist. Here is another case: A widower, well over sixty, with chronic asthma and unable to fodder cattle, owns and farms 80 acres. He has one son, who does all the work, and no other labour. The military claimed him and refused a substitute … The War Office is entirely responsible. It is the uncertainty that is killing agricultural enterprise. No man can attempt to cultivate his land if he does not know what labour he is going to have. It has been taken away on every hand, and it is taken away very suddenly. [47] Although this quotation shows small-scale farms, it also gives the portrayal of the relative ease with which marauding recruiting officers were able to entice young skilled agricultural workers away from farm work with the promise of better pay and a more exciting lifestyle in the army. However, the War Office claimed that recruiting officers discussed individual cases of

202  The police as ploughmen and farm workers agricultural workers who did not hold an exemption certificate with their local agricultural representatives before the agricultural worker was enlisted. Therefore, they claimed, those who had been called up must have been seen as dispensable to local needs [47]. This did not allay fears of essential farm workers being enlisted. Not only did the press regularly publish articles on ploughmen being called up or refused exemptions, but also questions continued to be raised in parliament into July 1917 in Scotland, where a ploughman had been recalled before a Tribunal with the expectation he would be called up [49]. The request by the Department of National Service to reallocate male labour to agriculture where it was most needed was seen by the appeal to the police in their journal in March 1917: As the result of a Superintendents’ conference, permission granted to Metro. Police officers to take up National Service Work has been rescinded so far as factories and workshops are concerned. A large number had obtained part time work at munitions establishments, and the supersession of the order immediately after its issue has caused much disappointment. The paramount necessity being for taking all measures for increasing the food supply, officers desirous of taking up paid agricultural or horticultural work will be permitted to do so. [50] The control of police officers in their off-duty time is clearly seen by cancelling their work in munitions factories. However, that the much-beleaguered Department of National Service under Neville Chamberlain was able to make an impact, even if only in small areas, was seen by being able to move these police officers to an area of work said to be more in need of their services. Requests for the police to answer the call of agriculture urgently was made at conferences, showing the pressing need for their help for the planting season, which gained priority over the production of munitions on this occasion. Not only in the metropolis, but policemen from around Britain were released for farm work for the planting season with agreement by their Local Council through the County War Agricultural Committees and with their Chief Constable’s permission, as their journal shows: POLICE AS PLOUGHMEN. CHESHIRE. – The Chief Constable is making arrangements to release Police Constables who are able to plough for service on farms in proximity to their residence. COLCHESTER. – Four members of the Force have been released by the Corporation in response to the urgent call for ploughmen. GREENOCK. – With the consent of the Corporation, the Chief Constable has asked members of the Force to volunteer for land cultivation

The police as ploughmen and farm workers  203 services, and a number have at once responded. Those selected will be temporarily released for the work. NORFOLK. – Acting on the authority of the Chairman of the Standing Joint Committee, who has been approached by the Norfolk War Agricultural Committee, the Chief Constable is making arrangements to release as many Police Constables as possible to help farmers in ploughing, harrowing, and other operations on the land. The scheme is based on the principle of the Constables who have spare time and a practical knowledge of farming offering their services to farmers within the police beat. [51] Most of these quotations show that policemen skilled in agriculture, particularly ploughing, responded to the call by offering their services. These arrangements are more likely to encourage them to volunteer for agricultural work, as, in some areas at least, they show that the work was within a reasonable distance from home. Arrangements had also been made so that police pay and terms and conditions were safeguarded, showing that the police had learnt from the previous experience in Edinburgh, the encouragement that was needed for their men to work in agriculture: … arrangements (are) between the Police Authority in whose service the Constables are, and the agricultural organisation or employer engaging their services for work on the land. The proper course to pursue is for the Police concerned to put the questions to their Chief Constable. … The legal position is that the Constable will still be in the employment of the Police Authority by whom his services have been lent for occasions to the farmer. The Police authority continue to be responsible for the wages and other considerations due to the Constable under the conditions of service in the Force to which the Constable belongs. [52] It is stated that the Glasgow Corporation has undertaken to maintain the wages of their Police and other employees at the existing figures whilst they are engaged in farm work. [53] The journal’s articles and comments in spring 1917 promoted their work in agriculture and policemen from around Britain volunteered to be involved: DUNDEE. – The Dundee Town Council have agreed to make up the difference in the pay of the Police engaged in agricultural work where the pay from the farmer is less than the men are receiving from the Police Authority.

204  The police as ploughmen and farm workers GREENOCK. – The Magistrates have agreed to make up the difference in the wages of the Police when they are released for agricultural work. PRESTON. – Three Preston Policemen, who are skilled ploughmen, are recommended by the Watch Committee for five weeks’ work on the land. [54] Three members of the Ayr Force have been released for agricultural work … These men are engaged ploughing the land on farms in the vicinity of Ayr. A number of members of the Liverpool force, who are competent in all kinds of farm work, have offered to devote their spare time – i.e., their annual leave and rest days – to this work. Farmers in the vicinity of this city who wish to avail themselves of their assistance are asked to communicate with the Head Constable. [54] Arrangements have been made for the release of a certain number of members of the Newcastle-on-Tyne Force for work on the land. Two or three men are to be taken from each division for a period of six months. [56] The recognition of their previous agricultural employment would have been flattering, encouraging policemen skilled in ploughing and agriculture to volunteer. And with the clear understanding that their job in the police was secure and that they would return to the police at the end of the spring: The question of the temporary release for service on the land during the present sowing season of members of the Birmingham Police Force who have previously engaged in agriculture came up for consideration at its meeting of the Watch Committee on the 4th inst. … As to the question of remuneration to Constables when so engaged, the committee pointed out that under the National Service scheme the standard rate of wages for this special work and the usual subsistence allowance for men working away from home would be paid, … ALDERMAN SANDERS, in moving the adoption of the report, said the men would be employed as far as possible in the surrounding districts. It was to be understood that their release was to be only for the sowing season. [57] These arrangements in Birmingham attempted to ensure that policemen who were released could also continue to live at home. Furthermore, the success of the scheme to release policemen for ploughing was seen by their release for harvest also:

The police as ploughmen and farm workers  205 In a large number of districts where the war has brought about a shortage of labour for work on the land, the Police have been requisitioned to give help. In this way the boys in blue are doing their bit to win the war, though the weapon is the plough and not the rifle. We understand that the arrangement has been effected (sic) by which a number of men from the Metropolitan Police Force are going back to the land to assist in the breaking up of the soil for the harvest of 1918, the men being in the first instance selected from among those who were engaged on farm work before joining the Police. These men, with horses drawn from the Army, are being placed at the service of farmers in different counties, who are ready to plough up pasture for corn growing, but are short of the necessary horse and manual labour. … there is a sense of novelty in the arrangement, and some may criticise the idea of men from the Police Force turning ploughmen. [58] The use of horses to plough grassland was seen as particularly demanding, as it needed men with a strong physique and the skills necessary to control the horses to plough sufficiently deep furrows on previously uncultivated land [59]; policemen with ploughing skills would have been ideal for this role. Large numbers of policemen from Birmingham were also seen to be doing a good job, to the satisfaction of the farmer, so that they were recalled to the land in early 1918: The hundred or so members of the Birmingham City Police who are now working on the land are giving every satisfaction to their employers. One farmer, speaking of the willingness and ability of his farm Policeman, said he thought he would lift the whole load of hay on to the rick at one pitch if he could have got it onto the hay fork! This particular man worked so well that it only took him ten minutes to unload a big wagon of hay on to the rick. [60] This allowed The Police Review to portray the police as not only helping the war effort by work in an area of national priority at home, but also that they had been so successful in the spring that they were invited back to finish the job in the autumn and also to prepare the ground for further planting. Indeed, a circular from the Ministry of National Service to County and Town Clerks and Chief Constables in July 1918, which was followed by a request from the Food Production Department to Agricultural Executive Committees, requested the release of as many local authority employees and policemen for the autumn harvest as could be spared, showing their recognition of the help policemen had previously given [61]. This was bound to allow the police to say that they had public approval for this work in the crisis of national food shortages. It would also allow the

206  The police as ploughmen and farm workers police authorities to claim that they were helping the war effort at home in a more positive way than surveillance, arrests and prosecutions. The quotation also shows that the policemen involved were sufficiently trusted by the farmer for him to allow them to use horses and equipment on his land, although the horses were loaned from the army; this arrangement would have built up police relationships with local people in rural areas, beneficial for the future. The widespread use of police as temporary ploughmen has not previously been found amongst historical documents, although the use of soldiers, prisoners of war, women, school children and even “lunatics” has been documented [62–64]. However, despite these efforts, by December 1917 Raymond Prothero reported to the Cabinet that the original estimate of ploughing three million acres of grassland in England and Wales to plant crops had to be revised downwards in the light of experience. A total of 2,695,000 acres had been added to the land under crops in 1916. The target had been missed as it was not possible to obtain the services of sufficient experienced ploughmen. He estimated that 48,500 farm labourers were needed; the most important of these were 8,500 skilled ploughmen. To meet this target, nearly 1,000 skilled ploughmen had been provided by the War Office from men returning from France for a 2-month period; around 500 German prisoners of war had also been assigned to work on the land, following a request by Colonel W.H. Walker, Conservative Member of Parliament for Widness, to the Board of Agriculture, although in some locations, such as Boreham Wood, a few prisoners were very unwilling and escaped – they were sentenced to 6 months of imprisonment in Gloucester jail [65]. But this still left a shortfall of 4,500 which were needed at once and a further 4,000 by the end of February. Sir Auckland Geddes, appointed since August 1917 as the Director of National Service, said his department would look in various directions to provide these skilled ploughmen [66]. The Police Review also shows police in agriculture and as ploughmen into the spring of 1918, breaking up the soil and spring planting; this was the third season that the services of the police had been used for agricultural work. The discourse of the need to produce home-grown food showed disputes of the exact numbers of agricultural workers recruited into the army [67]; scholarly work claims that different sampling methods were used to arrive at the estimates with highly questionable results. The significance of recruitment from agriculture into the army led to the portrayal from late 1916 that everyone should be involved in growing food in order that the nation should not starve, where they had farming skills and could lend their services to farming or horticulture. Despite the portrayed skilled labour shortage, the effects on agricultural output were small and were more easily measured. Indeed, with some crops, such as cereals and potatoes, an increased output of 57% above prewar levels was seen by 1918. Although ploughing targets were not met, an additional 2,966,000 acres of grass in Britain was turned over to grain and root crops [68,69]. Therefore,

The police as ploughmen and farm workers  207 the temporary use of large numbers of people from different walks of life (Prothero estimated 121,986 men had been supplied to farmers), including policemen, and a further 300,000 part-time and 16,000 full-time women in farming by 1918 [70] made a vital difference to food production at home during the latter two years of the war. Apart from the police turning to ploughmen to contribute to the national supply of grain and root crops, they were also seen to work energetically growing food to support themselves, their families and local communities on allotments. Appeals made by Rowland Prothero to grow your own fruit and vegetables saw public figures promote the use of their land, such as the King and Queen digging potatoes at Windsor and Lloyd George growing potatoes in his garden. The promotion of growing food on allotments, particularly by those who had no garden, enabled public parks and gardens, such as Kensington Gardens in central London to be dug up to grow vegetables. In some densely populated areas, every unused space was turned over by local people to growing vegetables. Many Local Councils also encouraged food production by turning over recreation areas into allotments for free use [71]. The Board of Agriculture gave advice on how to grow vegetables, and local lectures were given as well as books being published to help growers [72]. The Board of Education also issued instructions on gardening [73]. Prothero claimed that in 1917 and 1918, the number of allotments nationally rose from 530,000 to 1,400,000 with a further million tons of food produced [74]. The police were no exception to this activity, as their journal shows: The Hull Police have taken over no less than 200 allotments, and the men have now formed a horticultural section, the first meeting of which was held last week. The allotments are spread in various parts of the city, so as to meet the convenience of the men as far as possible. It is not an uncommon sight to see the day men working their plots at 5.30 a.m. [75] Having an allotment near to home was seen as important to promote self-sufficiency in the discourse of the need to produce home-grown food, particularly following German U-boat attacks in spring 1917. As the journal explained to its readers, At the present time it is the duty of everyone to produce as much food as possible, for it must be kept in mind that all food produced in this country is saving the cost of importing and helping to win the war [76] This was an appeal to all policemen and their families to become involved for the sake of the nation in the name of winning the war. The Police Review promoted the response to growing food on allotments by showing how

208  The police as ploughmen and farm workers widespread the activity had become, regardless of whether land was given freely or not: Members of the Sydenham (Metro.) Police have rented a field which has been divided into 25 10-rod plots. Members of the Force are to be seen early and late turning over the ground, and preparing it for cultivation. … similar work is in hand at Willesden Green, where the Police have rented a large field from a local builder. [77] This showed readers that this was the right thing to do. To further encourage growing food on allotments, some police forces were seen to build a competitive spirit: To promote healthy rivalry it has been decided to hold a show on August 11th, when prizes will be awarded for vegetables, the proceeds of the exhibition to be given to some local charity. Prizes are also to be given for the best cultivated plot, and an Inspection Committee has been formed to see that the plots are properly worked. One of the conditions for all plot holders is that three parts of each plot must grow vegetables. [78] Supervision of how the plots were worked and the amount of land given over to vegetable growing was an intrinsic part of having an allotment. Even in times of privation, the police found an opportunity to donate to charitable causes, as the previous quotation shows in line two where the proceeds of the sale of exhibited vegetables was donated to charity. However, some used growing vegetables on allotments as a bargaining strategy to regain lost time off: A Metro reader suggests that the Police should be given as much time off as possible, so that they might help to cultivate the soil and add to our food supply. The men at his station would be glad to take up allotments if they were allowed the time off due to them. They would not only be performing a national service, but would be able to alleviate the condition of their half-starved families. [79] The appeal to the police authorities through their journal was also to supplement their perceived poor levels of pay. Special Constables were also portrayed as an intrinsic part of the allotment scheme in some locations, although separate from the regular police: Sub-Div. Inspr. Race Hooper, Kingston sub-division (Metro.), himself an ardent food plotter, has arranged to hold an exhibition of produce

The police as ploughmen and farm workers  209 grown by the Police on their allotments at the next Police fete at Gigg’s Hill, at the end of July. Six prizes will be offered for the best collection of vegetables grown by Policemen in the Kingston sub-division, and there will be similar classes for Special Constables of the sub-division. [80] The Police Review portrayed Special Constables also as keen allotment vegetable growers but showed them not to be in competition with the regular police as they had a separate section devoted to their crops and their prizes awarded for growing. In conclusion, the discourse of the need to produce home-grown food saw workers from many walks of life substituted for the large number of skilled and unskilled farm workers who had left the home front recruited into fighting the war. Farmers were promised substitutes, but initially many were categorised as unfit by the military authorities, causing much consternation to farmers who felt unhelped by their allocation to farming. The continual threats to farmers of the loss of their skilled and trusted workers by recruitment into the army left them feeling demoralised in the face of increasing pressure to produce home-grown food. Despite skilled farm workers being categorised as starred workers, as the war progressed into 1917, this categorisation was increasingly irrelevant and dominated by the demands of the army for recruits. With imports, particularly of wheat and wheat products such as flour, being portrayed as in crisis from late 1916 due to increasing submarine attacks on shipping, the discourse involved everyone in supplementing food production for the survival of the nation. Shortages of food and rising prices had become evident to everyone, particularly those on lower incomes or unable or unwilling to work outside the home. However, the diminished levels of arable land because of the reliance on imports, particularly wheat, saw an urgent need to increase the amount of land for planting, rather than grazing livestock. The government’s plough policy from December 1916 saw farming become state managed, with farmers told what crops they should grow on identified land, and those who refused the orders were either fined or imprisoned, while inefficient farms were compulsorily taken over and managed. The State managed farming through County War Agricultural Committees as the local responsible body, one of their responsibilities being to source farm labour. These Committees as well as the Department of National Service requested men from local authorities and from Chief Constables, particularly men with ploughing experience, to help on the land for the harvests and planting seasons of 1916–1918. The police responded throughout Britain, mainly for work nearer their homes; this involved securing agreement that their job in the police would be safeguarded when they returned, and their pay would remain on police rates. The police journal continued to encourage volunteering for farm work, particularly ploughing as a suitable activity for policemen, the implication being that

210  The police as ploughmen and farm workers their physique was essential for the heavy work involved. The discourse also saw the previous skills of ploughing being shown as important to farmers in the work of turning the soil to plant crops, where horses were mainly used. This widespread use of police as ploughmen has not previously been uncovered; their use, along with other already identified temporary farm workers such as soldiers, school children and prisoners of war, added vast amounts of pasture unploughed for decades to the land under cultivation. Police work as ploughmen would also have built up their good relationships with local people in rural areas. To add to the stocks of home-grown food, the police, like many other civilians, grew vegetables on allotments. Although many plots were given freely, the police also rented some fields which they turned into allotments. Shows of produce and prizes for the best vegetables in the autumn promoted competition while producing non-food items, such as flowers, were minimised by inspection and surveillance by everyone of each other’s produce.

Note 1 Over a third of the single and more than half the married men avoided recruitment when called (see Chapter 8).

References 1 The Board of Trade Labour Gazette, January 1916, p. 29. 2 Dewey, P. E. (1989) British Agriculture in the First World War. London and New York: Routledge, p. 16. 3 Ernle, R.E.P. (1961) English Farming Past and Present, 6th edn. London: Heinemann Educational Books Ltd, pp. 393–394. 4 Ernle, R.E.P. (1925) The Land and its People: Chapters in Rural Life and History. London: Hutchison & Co. Preface. 5 First World War Network, Moore, J. (2015) Farming in the First World War: County War Agricultural Records. 6 Grieves, K. (1988) The Politics of Manpower, 1914–18. Manchester: Manchester University Press; IWM MPDB 77/66/1, S. Oliver to Sandford Fawcett, 25 September 1916. 7 For example, in Faversham, Kent the Kent and East Sussex Courier reported that mangolds were rotting in the ground due to insufficient labour, in Scott, C. (2017) Holding the Home Front: The Women’s Land Army in the First World War. Barnsley: Pen and Sword History, p. 58. 8 CAB 24/2. Memorandum by Lord Crawford, President of the Board of Agriculture to the War Cabinet, 30 October 1916. 9 Scott, C. (2017) Holding the Home Front: The Women’s Land Army in the First World War. Barnsley: Pen and Sword History. 10 McDermott, J. (2011) British Military Tribunals: ‘A Very Much Abused Body of Men’. Manchester: Manchester University Press. 11 McDermott, J. (2011) ibid, p. 121. 12 Yorkshire Post and Leeds Intelligencer, 23 October 1916. 13 Letter from the War Office 27/Gen. No./5714 (D.R., 4), 4 October 1916. TNA HO45/10827 322579.

The police as ploughmen and farm workers  211 14 Ernle, R.E.P. (1925) op. cit. p. 125. 15 CAB 23/1. Minutes of the War Cabinet, 14 February 1917. 16 List of Certified Occupations R. 94, 7 July 1916. TNA MH 47/142/1. 17 McDermott, J. (2011) op. cit.; Montgomery, J. K. (1922) The Maintenance of the Agricultural Labour Supply in England and Wales During the War. International Institute of Agriculture. Bureau of Economic and Social Intelligence. Rome 18 Scott, C. (2017) op. cit. 19 TNA MUN5/331. History of the Ministry of Munitions. Volume VI Man Power and Dilution. Part I “Combing Out,” 1916–1917. 20 House of Lords, 5th Series (1917) XXIV, 325–326. In Dewey, P. (1989) op. cit. 21 MAF38/180. Memorandum on Agricultural Labour. 22 Dewey, P. E. (1989) op. cit., p. 41. 23 TNA HO 45/10827/322579. 24 Letter 322,579/2 from the Home Office, 7 November 1916. TNA HO 45/10827/322579. 25 Scott, C. (2017) op. cit., p. 90 quoted from the Western Mail, 21 December 1916. 26 Dewey, P. (1989) op. cit., p. 92; Middleton, T.H. (1923) Food Production in the War. Oxford: Clarendon Press, pp. 83, 164–166. 27 McDermott, J. (2011) op. cit. 28 House of Commons Debates, 19 December 1916, vol 88, cc1348. 29 House of Commons Debates, 8 February 1917, vol 90, cc171. 30 Ernle, R.E.P. (1925) op. cit. 31 Grieves, K. (1988) op. cit., pp. 95–99. 32 Ernle, R.E.P. (1961) op. cit. 33 House of Commons Debates, 19 December 1916, vol 88, cc1350. 34 Grieves, K. (1988) op. cit., p. 94. 35 Dewey, P. (1989) op. cit. 36 Ernle, R.E.P. (1925) op. cit. 37 House of Commons Debates, 21 February 1917, vol 90, cc1329–1330. 38 The Police Review Policemen as Ploughmen, 13 July 1917, p. 222. 39 Davidson, N. et al. (2017) Police and Community in Twentieth Century Scotland: The Uses of Social History. British Journal of Criminology, 57, 18–39. 40 The Police Review, 12 April 1918, p. 118. 41 House of Commons Debates, 2 April 1917, vol 92, c887. 42 Montgomery, J. K. (1922) The Maintenance of the Agricultural Labour Supply in England and Wales During the War. Rome: Printing Office of the International Institute of Agriculture, pp. 70–71. 43 Dewey, P. E. (2014) op. cit., p. 204. 44 House of Commons Debates, 15 March 1917, vol 91, cc1258–1259. 45 House of Commons Debates, 20 March 1917, vol 92, cc601–602. 46 House of Commons Debates, 20 March 1917, vol 92, cc601–602. 47 House of Commons Debates, 5 March 1917, vol 91, cc65–67. 48 House of Commons Debates, 15 March 1917, vol 91, cc1296–1297W. 49 House of Commons Debates, 5 July 1917, vol 95, c1276. 50 The Police Review Police and National Service: Metro. Police and Munition Work, 23 March 1917, p. 91. 51 The Police Review Police as Ploughmen, 23 March 1917, op. cit. 52 The Police Review Police and Agricultural work. Conditions of Service, 30 March 1917, p. 105. 53 The Police Review Answers, 13764 G.A. Police as Ploughmen. 30 March 1917, p. 97. 54 The Police Review Police as Ploughmen, 5 April 1917, p. 106. 55 The Police Review Police and Agricultural Work, 28 April 1917, p. 126.

212  The police as ploughmen and farm workers 56 The Police Review Police and Agricultural Work, 4 May 1917, p. 141. 57 The Police Review Police for Farm Work: The Birmingham arrangements, 13 April 1917, p. 119. 58 The Police Review Policemen at the Plough, 17 August 1917, p. 262. 59 Dewey, P. E. (1989) op. cit. 60 The Police Review Notes and Comments, 8 February 1917, p. 37. 61 Montgomery, J. K. (1922) op. cit., pp. 75–76. 62 Ernle, R.E.P. (1925) op. cit. 63 For example Dewey P. (1989) op. cit., Ernle, R.E.P. (1925). 64 McDermott, J. (2011) op. cit., p. 98. 65 Charman, T. (2015) The First World War on the Home Front. London: Andre Deutsch, p. 198. 66 War Cabinet 296. 12 December 1917. CAB/23/4. 67 McDermott, J. (2011) op. cit., pp. 95–98. 68 Dewey, P. (1989) op. cit., pp. 211–219. 69 Ernle, R.E.P. (1961) op. cit., p. 407. 70 Ernle, R.E.P. (1961) op. cit., p. 404. 71 Charman, T. (2015) op. cit., p. 196. 72 Brett, W. (n.d.) War-time Gardening: How to Grow Your Own Food. London: “The Smallholder” Offices. 73 Board of Education Report 1916–1917, pp. 2–3. Cd 9045–1918. 74 Ernle, R.E.P. (1961) op. cit., p. 405. 75 The Police Review Hull Police Allotments, Prize Competition for Vegetables, 30 March 1917, p. 104. 76 The Police Review The Food Shortage, 30 March 1917, p. 104. 77 The Police Review Parade Gossip, 16 March 1917, p. 82. 78 The Police Review Hull Police Allotments, 16 March 1917, p. 82. 79 The Police Review Notes and Comments, 23 February 1917, p. 62. 80 The Police Review Metro, Allotment Holders, 25 May 1917, p. 163.

11 Flashpoints and tensions

The discourse of serving King and Country developed from the outbreak of war (see also in Chapter 8). When conscription was introduced in 1916, Britain was already war weary. Most men who remained at home by this time did not want to fight in a war, while others were worried about the effects that so many men being called up and sent overseas would have on their homes, lives and work [1]. With the continual call-­­up of young, fit men into the army, the police, like most other British organisations on the home front, saw their numbers diminish, to be replaced by older, beyond retirement age and temporary policemen and Special Constables, the latter mostly part-­time and often older men [2], who were said to diminish police efficiency, as well as by women who were not seen as able to take on the full role of the regular police. As well as having to make these adjustments, in the final year of the war, the police had to become accustomed to fewer men available as further replacements were unlikely to be found. In addition to worries about maintaining their numbers, the police had two other major sources of conflict with their employers: 1 They continually petitioned for increases in their pay and/or the war bonus to keep pace with the escalating costs of food and the pressure this put on their families. But many said these requests were ignored or stalled for long periods, which added to their frustrations. During peacetime, small rises in costs could be contained, but during the war frightening price rises, particularly of food, created worries about starvation. While the police said they had developed special skills to deal with the increased demands of their job which entitled them to be seen as skilled workers and paid as such, Watch and Standing Joint Committees often saw them as unskilled labour, failing to recognise their more complex and demanding role and to contain demands on the ratepayers [3]. 2 In trying to maintain services, police authorities reduced time off, often to only 1 day every 2 weeks or less, when as recently as 1910 after a campaign by The Police Review, legislation had granted them 1 day off each week. This was said to add further to frustrations and exhaustion, as well as cancellation in some Forces of their annual leave of 14 days per year [4,5].

214  Flashpoints and tensions Pressure by the army to “comb out” the police led to escalating tensions. Flash points were seen in The Police Review when the police were portrayed as particularly pressurised, their journal shows the responses they were told were the right ones to adopt. This chapter shows these flashpoints and tensions in chronological order and follows on from Chapter 8. When the Military Service Act 1916 came into force in March, the police were already concerned at the reduced numbers of regular police and also of Special Constables. The Act specified that all unmarried or widowed men with no children between the ages of 18 and 41 were deemed to be enlisted in His Majesty’s general forces or in the reserve. This brought a warning from The Police Review to police forces throughout Britain: It is officially stated that the whole question of the position of Special Constables and enrolled volunteers is now being examined comprehensively in the light of the changed condition brought about by the opening of enrolment under the Volunteer Act of 1863. [6] The warning showed its readers that the police could lose the services of some of their Special Constables altogether or that they would have other pressures on their time, such as the requirement for regular military training, which could conflict with their time spent as Special Constables and would further deplete the hours they were available for duty. Concern was also raised that Special Constables of military age would be prevented from having a dual role of volunteers, further diminishing their ranks: MR. JOYSON-­HICKS (U.), Brentford, asked the Secretary of State for War whether he is aware that many of the Special Constabularies have been considerably depleted lately, and that the new order preventing Special Constables from being members of the Volunteers will deplete them still more; and whether he can see his way to allow men who are willing to do so to remain members of both bodies? MR. FORSTER: I cannot state to-­day that men will be allowed to remain Special Constables and also Volunteers, but I can inform my hon. friend that a recommendation to that effect is before, and is being considered by, the Army Council. [7] The loss of Special Constables of military age would have severe detrimental effects on many forces, where their services were seen as a vital part; for example, Leeds during 1916 was reported to have 2,183 Special Constables who gave 190,722 hours of service, estimated as 23,840 days of 8-hour shifts [8]. The previous quotation occurred during debate on the New Volunteer Act of 1916 to which the police made representation. Agreement by the War Office that Special Constables could continue to serve in the police,

Flashpoints and tensions  215 particularly for civil emergencies, and that this would be their priority, as well as being in the Volunteer Corps was confirmed in June 1917 [9]. By June 1918, the number of Special Constables in Britain was said to exceed 100,000 and considerably outnumbered the regular police [10], although the proportion who were of military age was not given. By early 1917, a question in the House of Commons showed that although being enlisted in the nation’s Volunteer Force predominated, agreement to retain the services of Special Constables in a dual role could be achieved by negotiation between the Chief Constable and the military services, where the individual was said to be good at his job and the police wished to retain his services: MR BROOKES asked the Home Secretary whether, in view of their services, members of the Volunteer Force have, so far as the Special Constabulary are concerned, the right of choosing whether to remain with the Volunteers or in the Special Constabulary, should the joint duties become too obvious (sic)? SIR G. CAVE: A Special Constable may resign his office with the consent of the Chief Officer of Police. I have no doubt that by arrangement between the military and Police authorities consent would be given in proper cases. [11] This also gave Chief Constables the opportunity to dispense with the services of those who had been imposed on him by a tribunal if they judged them to be unsuited to policing, advising them to spend their entire time in the Volunteer Force. With further desperate calls by the army for fit young men due to the high casualty rate at the Somme, police forces, as in other areas of employment, were asked to release more men to serve King and Country. The Chief ­Constable of Liverpool was seen to be considering how his force could reorganise to allow further release. While he could not allow any release without some method of substitution, he suggested two options to the Watch Committee: 1 2

Discontinuing for the present all band performances and employing the members of the band on full Police duty. Asking the Special Constables to undertake slightly longer hours of Police duty. [12]

The Watch Committee agreed, allowing 50 more policemen to be released, although it was said this would bring the total number released from Liverpool to 700, of which 70 had already been killed in action. This example to its readers showed that reorganising the police forces was the right thing to do and the example would have encouraged others to do the same. However, pressure on Watch Committees to release policemen under 41 years of age

216  Flashpoints and tensions (married men were included in conscription since May 1916) was seen in Worcester, where The Police Review printed the questions the Chief Constable was asked: (1) What was the strength of the Force immediately prior to the war, and what is its present strength? (2) What is the age of each man? How many are married, and their respective number of children? (3) To what extent is the strength of the Force regulated by the Home Office? [13] This allowed the Chief Constable to compare Worcester’s performance with other police forces, showing how they had performed better: “He had heard of one Force (with a strength no higher than that of Worcester) which had 25 single men in it. At Worcester they had not had a single man for twelve months.” While the Watch Committee agreed not to release any more men at this time, the journal portrayed how conscription of men up to 41 years of age could come at any time, alerting them and other police forces to be prepared to make plans speedily to adjust their services. Other police forces also claimed that they had no single men remaining, for example, Sunderland [14]. But by November 1916, the journal showed how Special Constables under 41 years of age in the Metropolitan Police were having their certificates of exemption withdrawn, so that they would be lost to the police service or have reduced hours: The Home Secretary has decided to withdraw the certificates of exemption from military service issued to members of the Metro. Special Constabulary who have been placed in Category C1 (garrison duty at home). It is stated this will affect 300 men out of 2,000. [15] This large number, 30% of the Special Constabulary, would have been a bitter blow and difficult to replace, particularly with other younger fit men. This put increasing pressure on those left in the Metropolitan police. At the same time, tension was increasing due to the dismissal of three constables from the Force for being members of the National Union of Police and Prison Officers (NUPPO). It was portrayed that their joining a union and attempting to persuade others to do the same amounted to insubordination and prejudiced the discipline of the force; this was set out in a Police Order of 23 November 1916 under the Defence of the Realm Act, Regulation 27 [c], which made it an offence to write or print statements “likely to prejudice the discipline of the Force,” also: 62a. Members of the Metropolitan Police Force are prohibited (unless detailed for duty) from attending meetings which there is reason to believe are held with the object of inciting Police Officers to insubordination,

Flashpoints and tensions  217 or to violation of the disciplinary regulations of the Service, or where language is used calculated to undermine police discipline. [16] Dismissing the three officers with no right of appeal was made known by a question in the House of Commons on 23 November as well as in many written protests to the Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police from labour organisations often calling the dismissals “tyrannical behaviour,” saying that union members were being victimised by senior officers in their attempts to suppress union membership. However, Lloyd George showed his support for the Commissioner by not allowing the police to have a voice in their conditions of service, showing that an autocracy was appropriate for the police service. A petition to the King by Sir Edward Henry shows this autocracy was approved at the highest level: Every Home Secretary since and including Mr. Gladstone has endorsed in the House of Commons the view that the existence of a Police Union is not compatible with the discipline of the Service or with public interest. [17] By early 1917, tensions were increasing as discontent amongst the police in some locations was graphically seen by anger that their entitlement to time off was not being met: this is a particularly sore matter – the Police are entitled to One Day’s Rest in Seven. Although this concession was given several years ago, no attempt whatever has been made to extend it to the Pembrokeshire Force. It has been done in adjoining counties, and continued, we believe, during the war. We think our readers will agree that it is nothing short of a public scandal that the men should be deprived of a right accorded them by Act of Parliament, and be kept with their noses to the grindstone from one year’s end to another, practically without a break of any kind. We believe the bulk of them have had no holiday of any sort since the war started, and, when it is remembered that they are on duty every day of the year, it will be readily conceded that they have been very badly treated. The Standing Joint Committee have certainly been negligent in the discharge of the duty they owe to the men in this respect, and we trust the committee will face the position fearlessly and insist upon doing justice to the Force. [18] Although The Police Review spearheaded the campaign for the weekly rest day to prevent police unrest, which became law in 1910 [19], Klein shows how Watch Committees were slow to implement the proposals giving a discourse

218  Flashpoints and tensions of emergency for not setting it aside. The previous quotation shows the pressures of war led to denying the weekly day off and other periods of rest not only in England, but also in Wales, with very strong feelings which reached the local press. This alerted other readers to compare their own situation and adopt similar protests if they judged themselves to be disadvantaged. The historical foot-­dragging of Watch Committees following the 1910 Act would have been well remembered by longer serving policemen who were given a discourse before the war of economising. In Birmingham, they were told the ratepayers needed to agree the additional expense, while a delegation of policemen in Manchester heard that they must be able to give a reason for spending an additional £10,000 per year [20]. Granting time off was made worse by the war, as Emsley says: “Wartime police duties put enormous strains on the ageing, depleted workforce which remained to carry them out” [21]. There were many reports of the weekly rest day being forfeited or reduced to 1 day off a fortnight, while in London “the rest day completely disappeared, hours of duty were lengthened, and so too were beats” [22]. The unrest over time off made the journal renew its campaign – it surveyed police authorities in England and Wales in 1917 and published the arrangements in Borough and County Forces. For Borough Forces, it showed 3 categories: (1) “Full Pay for Every Day Lost” (7 police authorities were named); (2) “Less than Full Pay” (8 authorities were named with the proportion of pay each gave for lost time off or in 2 cases “Lost leave worked off”) and (3) “Compensation for Reduced Leave” (20 authorities were identified where pay had been given for lost leave, but the journal said it was unclear whether pay had been given also for lost days off). County Forces were ­similarly identified: There are … some instances where the men have received no compensation for the monthly or fortnightly leave of which they are deprived. Durham Co. is a case in point. On the other hand, the Chairman of the Yorkshire W.R., Standing Joint Committee promised in December last to consider “sympathetically” the question of paying the men for the days’ leave of which they have been deprived, and we trust that the West Riding will give a lead to the other County Forces in this as in other matters. The journal continued to plead the case for their readers, calling on the authorities to favourably consider the work the men were doing not only on behalf of the nation but also for their families: “A few pounds owing to the men would help remove the incubus of debt from many a harassed Constable struggling hard to do his duty equally by his family and the State in these anxious and strenuous days,” appealing that the amount they were due was small and therefore could not legitimately be denied using the discourse of economising. Identifying the arrangements of individual police authorities

Flashpoints and tensions  219 and naming the column the “Roll of Honour” (a phrase used to glorify those lost in battle) showed readers how their own police authority compared. The journal also asked the authorities that had not replied to do so; those not included in the final list would be judged negatively by readers around Britain, encouraging disquiet. The journal brought out into the open the locations that did not meet their commitments to time off and leave, acting as a voice for these workforces [23]. Despite Watch Committees granting time off, there was always the chance it would be forfeited as more young men continued to be called up. Whereas some policemen gave up their day off, it was only on condition that they were adequately recompensed: Constables’ families are perilously near the poverty line – much nearer than the public would approve, were they in full possession of the facts. If the Watch Committee decide that we are to lose our day of rest we humbly ask that we should be paid at the same rate for overtime as other Corporation employees receive. [24] This portrayed the gulf between senior police officers and the lower ranks in making the case to improve the latter’s conditions of service and gave veiled threats that these conditions could be made public to shame the authorities and to appeal for public support for their case. The appeal was also to the police authorities on the very real suffering of the lower ranks and their families due to the combined disadvantages of lack of time off and poor pay. Where time off was given, some officers took a second job on their rest day in an attempt to make ends meet: We understand that the Police at King’s Cross road (Metro.) are being employed on their leave days in collecting money from metres for the Gas Light and Coke Co. They are being paid at the rate of 10d. an hour, which can be augmented by commission for more than a certain amount collected. [25] The journal also printed comparative rates for second jobs, showing Sheffield Police working on tramway duties which paid 1 shilling and 3 pence per hour, demonstrating how remuneration in London for collecting money from metres compared negatively with tramway work in Sheffield. However, pressure by government to release more policemen of military age was mounting by the middle of May 1917, as a question in the House of Commons shows: Mr King (Somerset, N.) asked the Under Secretary of State for War whether he is aware of the number of men of military age now serving

220  Flashpoints and tensions in the Metropolitan Police Force and other Police forces, and, what steps he proposes to take to enable these thousands of men to take their places in the Army? Mr Macpherson: As the hon. member is doubtless aware, a considerable number of Constables have been released for services with the Forces, and, in pursuance of the War Cabinet decision in the beginning of February, those fit for general service under the age of 23 were made available for service. A further release of Constables has just been arranged. [26] The previous quotation shows the very evident war weariness in the nation and the wish to see a speedy end to the war by recruiting further troops. Everyone must play their part. With the introduction of the 1918 Military Services (No 1) Act, given Royal Assent on 6 February, the Minister of National Service Auckland Geddes developed a drastic comb-­out of all occupations, cancelling exemptions given to all men of military age and suitable fitness and introduced a revised schedule of Protected Occupations. Public services, such as the police, were bound to comply, but private industry such as the metal trades and the miners threatened to resist and to strike if provoked; they demanded direct negotiations with government. The introduction of the Bill caused an immediate national crisis [27]. Whereas private sector employees were mainly represented by strong Trade Unions which could demand the right to negotiate with government or they would withdraw their labour, organisation in the police was in its infancy, with the National Union of Police and Prison Officials having been kept at bay and largely ignored by the police authorities: In accordance with the expressed desire of the majority of Police and Prison Officers at present interested, we hereby emphasise that our pursuit of the right to conferences and representation will be conducted with energy and in such reasonable and legitimate manner that will at least earn the respect of Police Authority and in honest endeavour to minimise the official opposition hitherto experienced. [28] If petitions and delegations, the accepted way for policemen to make their point to their Chief Constable, were ignored or disallowed, and representation to the Watch or Standing Joint Committee was equally disregarded, this was ideal grounds for a Police Union. Until representation was introduced, it left The Police Review as one of the only channels of protest for the police who struggled to find any other means of having a voice [29]. As a letter writer to The Police Review said, they merely wanted the right to confer:

Flashpoints and tensions  221 The bulk of the Police do not desire an association closely akin to Trade Unionism, but they do yearn for an association which would consider impartially any complaint or suggestion without fear of victimisation. [30] Although the letter writer said there was a monthly return for complaints, it meant only individual complaints were allowed requiring the complainant to be identified. The rank and file police wanted collective representation. This, a Metropolitan letter writer said, would “abolish the needless bitterness and friction between some of the officers and men.” From February 1918 until the end of the war, the journal received increasingly strident correspondence from its readers about young, fit men who were retained in the police. It took up the cause of substitution so that these men could be released by writing to the Home Office for clarification and was told that ex-­policemen who had fought in the war, now classified as surplus to requirements as unfit, would be transferred to civilian life. If their services were not required in the Military Police, some would be able to return to the civilian police so that younger men could be released: to take the place of the younger men who have so far escaped the hardship and dangers of the trenches would be regarded by all as right and proper. [31] The journal made it clear to those accused of being retained in the police that they should now be released to be replaced by others who were no longer said to be fit to fight. The strong appeal by the journal, calling this a crisis, gave leadership to the police authorities that everyone of military age should now go to war and it was time they were released in the interests of the nation as a whole “from which none can stand excused.” It supported government strategies of combing out the police and replacement with men of lowered efficiency that the army had rejected as unfit. This gave a bold message to its readers that it was the duty of every man of military age to fight for King and Country. The major offensive by Germany against the Western Front started on 20 March 1918. This surprise attack led the War Cabinet to make drastic changes to recruitment; among other measures, it reduced the size of the Home Army from 43,000 to 10,000, relaxed eyesight tests conducted by the National Service Medical Boards, who were streamlined to conduct 90,000 examinations a week, and sent Conscientious Objectors to France [32]. These changes made drastic differences to the police who remained at home. However, manpower estimates provided to the War Cabinet based on casualty levels from 21 to 30 March showed these measures were ­i nsufficient – an additional 282,200 recruits were needed for the army estimated to the end of July 1918. In April 1918, the Military Service (No 2)

222  Flashpoints and tensions Act was passed in response. This increased the age of military service to 51 and was seen by government as scraping the bottom of the barrel for suitable men for the army. The Police Review told its readers that due to the increased age range, a larger number of policemen and special constables “have now become liable to military service, and many will doubtless be called,” saying the police service needed a “greatly increased number of recruits.” But it portrayed being able to encourage more recruits into police work as unlikely as the Act made volunteering at home compulsory with the obligation for everyone of military age to undergo military training of one or two drills or route marches a week. This requirement, in addition to men tending their allotments to provide much needed home-­g rown food, would make it extremely difficult for men of military age to give time to policing, while it would prevent others from coming forward to be Special Constables [33]. The new Act unleashed a torrent of criticism from policemen of their younger colleagues and also of their senior officers in the way those of military age were chosen and released. With the police service under such immense pressure, the journal showed the tensions between individual officers to which their families also contributed: I am the wife of a 1914 Reserve man, and my husband has now been serving three years and nine months, two years of which were spent in German East Africa, and now he is in France. He has been in the fighting line most of his time, and I think it time … that such men as he should be relieved, especially when we hear of young men boasting that they only joined the Police Force to escape military service, and that they are only in it for the duration of the war. Replacement of men who had been fighting since the beginning of the war was a constant theme. Letter writers also accused men in the Military Police of only serving at home to escape war service. This was vociferously denied by the men who had served in France – they had often been invalided out of the front line and sent home as they were judged fit enough to serve in the military police, especially with a background in the civilian police. Senior Police Officers were also criticised for giving mixed messages about the financial support their wives and dependents would receive when they were released for army service: the S.-Div. Inspector called the men together … and stated that 50 per cent. of the metropolitan Police were expected to join the Army, but only those who volunteered would be allowed the privileges and allowances under the Police Naval and Military Service Act (italics supplied). Those who did not volunteer would be fetched as conscripts, and would receive no allowances for their wives and children, who would only get separation allowances from the Army.

Flashpoints and tensions  223 This severe pressure on the Metropolitan Police saw renewed tensions arise. Two themes emerged: (1) those who portrayed themselves as central to the regular police force wanted priority over the Special Constables, implying the latter were not really part of the police and portraying their work as not of national importance, which segregated them, and (2) Special Constables of military age were also accused of only using the police as a hiding place – they were really only interested in protecting their own business interests and were labelled “shirkers.” The regular police wanted priority to remain at home until after the Special Constables had been released, and they should then be considered for release by age or length of service. Another letter portrayed the older men who joined the police more recently as only joining to evade military service (this common theme judged these older men as showing not only a lack of loyalty to the police but also lacking patriotism), so it was unfair to release the younger ones first, who may have longer service in the police. Men with shorter lengths of service should be released first, saying this was a unanimous agreement, which segregated the newer older recruits. These letters looked to The Police Review as an arbiter and showed its readers around Britain the tensions in the Metropolitan Police [34]. In mid-­May 1918, the journal attempted to mediate in continued criticisms of senior officers by saying that any plan for release must not be seen to award favours to some rather than others and that anyone chosen must not see themselves as singled out or their release as being a penalty for insubordination. This was linked to anxieties that the police authorities were specifically targeting men who had joined the Union to send them into the army. This was not only in the Metropolitan Police; Manchester Police also accused the authorities of victimisation by finding out which officers were members of the union and sending them into the army [35]. Emsley showed that it was highly likely the Home Office was aware of these tactics [36]. Paranoia in the police showed the authoritarian nature of police discipline and the crackdown by the police authority by singling out men who were said to have joined the police union, which reached the House of Commons: Colonel THORNE asked the Home Secretary whether it is proposed to weed out all police constables who are suspected by their officers to be members of, or interested in, the Police Union, with a view to their joining the Army? [37] The journal appealed to the police authorities that those who had remained so far did not wish to join the army and that, as they had provided good service to the police, they deserved consideration by agreeing the selection process was fair and not conducted in an arbitrary manner [38], advising the need for a more democratic approach by senior police officers. As tensions continued to mount, the journal reinforced its message that “the only

224  Flashpoints and tensions objections which we have heard – are levelled against the method of selecting or releasing Constables for service with the Colours” (italics supplied), repeating that length of service should determine the order in which men were called up – the last in should be the first out. The journal portrayed Sir Edward Henry, Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police, as being fair and “too good a soldier and patriotic a gentleman” to retain men between 18 and 51 in the police in the face of urgent calls for men in the army. Every fit young man of military age must now endorse the call of military service for the sake of the country, which had been accepted by the whole nation: Just as one effect of this enactment has been to bring out the young men who have hitherto been exempted from military service on the ground of national interest of one kind or another, and to send them from civil life to the army, so the younger men in the Police Force must realise that reasons which have been sufficient to justify their retention hitherto no longer apply. [39] This appeal was for every man to accept that their retention in the police was not going to continue and that they should be prepared to be released, possibly at short notice [40]. Indeed, the government had reduced the amount of notice given from 14 days to 7. Every other man under 51 in the nation had been treated similarly. The resistance to being called up published in the journal, the segregation of different sectors of the police service and between different ages and lengths of service and the appeals made to the Metropolitan Police were read throughout Britain, encouraging individual policemen and police authorities everywhere to judge their own situation. To add weight, the journal published an article said to be contributed by “Not a Conchie,”1 who wrote that after 2 ½ year’s service he had come home on leave and “on visiting my old station to find so many young fellows evading Military Service.” The letter challenged the patriotism of those still found at home, saying there were many of them: at least five to six thousand strong, able-­bodied men under 35 are hiding behind the blue clothes in the Metropolis, and quite a thousand of these men joined the Force since 1914. This reignited strong claims that the Metropolitan Police were still providing a hiding place for fit young men who had only joined to evade military service and had short service records – they were not real policemen, they were a disgrace to the Force and caused bitterness in the service. They were also portrayed as causing a disgrace to their family and children if they did not now go to war [41]. Further reductions in the Home Army during the last 4 months of the war combed out more policemen of Category B status, previously categorised

Flashpoints and tensions  225 as not fit enough to be called up, who were now regraded as fit for service in North West Europe, as all the Category A men were said to have already been sent to France [42]. This further diminished the numbers of regular policemen and Special Constables and provoked further trouble in the police [43] with less prospects of obtaining further recruits for the police, as the nation was being ruthlessly combed out of all men both of Category A and B status aged between 18 and 51, while the public both shunned and reviled those of military age seen on the streets. However, The Police Review supported regular policemen being retained at home, while acknowledging that substitution by Special Constables had been essential but led to a less efficient service. The backbone of the police service, which was to maintain public order and protect life and property, needed a certain number of regular policemen with much training and experience built up over the years; the police authorities could not allow further dilution by Special ­Constables [44]. By August 1918, the police who were left were portrayed as demoralised, exhausted, tired of the autocratic way they were treated, their requests being unmet and ignored and desperately poorly paid; one policeman said his wages were less than “young van-­boys and slips of girls” [45]. Their situation reached the House of Commons where a question represented their frustrations: Mr. WILES (Liberal MP for Islington South) asked the Home Secretary whether he will consider a further increase in the remuneration of the Metropolitan Police Force, having regard to the fact that the Fire Brigade Committee of the London County Council is recommending a considerable increase in the pay of the members of the London Fire Brigade, who do work of the same character? Sir George CAVE (Home Secretary) The question of making a further increase in the remuneration of the Metropolitan Police Force is under consideration, but I do not expect to be able to announce my decision in the matter for some little time. [46] The question of a pay rise for the Metropolitan Police was raised again in the House of Commons on 31 July [47] and 8 August 1918 [48], with a similar response by the Home Secretary of this being “under consideration.” But their spirit was not broken. On 30 August, the Metropolitan Police went on strike. By the following day, 12,000 policemen in London were said to be on strike, almost the entire force, portrayed mainly as due to “not receiving a living wage” [49,50], they marched on Downing Street. However, official records show approximately half this number, 6,209 men consisting of sergeants and constables, were on strike [51]. The Westminster Journal quoted the NUPPO London organiser saying during the strike: “We are sick of being messed about and being told that they are being considered,

226  Flashpoints and tensions considered, considered” [52]. The police were said to have many sympathisers amongst the public as The Times showed [53], including many of the Special Constables [54] and the soldiers sent to protect government buildings who fraternised with the police strikers when they reached Whitehall [55]. Lloyd George met the leaders at 10, Downing Street, on 31 August and an immediate pay rise was agreed, while the Home Office said it was not advisable to go ahead with a further combing out of the police [56]. However, Lord Riddell2 recalls in his diary that: I congratulated L.G. on settling the strike. L.G.: The whole thing has been disgracefully mismanaged. The terms granted by me had been agreed upon for some time past, but the men have never been told. [57] Sir Edward Henry, Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police, was widely said to have been made a scapegoat and resigned; he was replaced by General Macready. Speedy action was taken to address the many complaints, including use of the police library and time given during duty hours to hold meetings. However, the Union of Police and Prison Officers continued to be rejected as a legitimate form of representation: The Secretary of State, therefore, giving the Force assurances of sympathetic consideration inall (sic) matters touching its welfare, and while desiring to provide the Force with all proper safeguards, has decided in the public interest that no member of the Force, present, or future, shall continue to be a member of or join the Union of Police and Prison Officers or any like Association. [58] The portrayal of union rejection was given in the public interest, while the responsible Minister gave his assurance of considering sympathetically and safeguarding the best interests of the Metropolitan Police Force as a whole. The strike was widely debated in the House of Commons and the Lords, with immense surprise at this course of action expressed by many speakers [59]. The Metropolitan Police strike of August 1918, graphically portrayed in The Police Review, showed other forces around Britain the success of the strike and brought to the surface years of discontent in other forces too. By being organised, individual policemen around Britain realised they could be taken seriously. Many Forces developed branches of the NUPPO affiliated with Trade Unions to the horror of many Chief Constables. By ­November 1918, the NUPPO claimed 50,000 members nationwide [60]. Conclusions show the discourse of serving King and Country in at least the last 2 ½ years of the war had dramatic effects on the police service at

Flashpoints and tensions  227 home. Many tensions said to be caused by conditions on the Home Front came together to create flashpoints, seen from 1916 and particularly in 1918. In the patriarchal police family, where the wife was not accepted as working outside the home, the husband’s sole wage came under increasing pressure due to steep price rises and the insensitivity of the police authorities to listen to rank and file policemen to give adequate increases in pay or the war bonus. In the latter years of the war, policemen and their wives were portrayed as becoming increasingly worried about how they were going to feed their breadwinner and family. Added to this, exhaustion rose as many were expected to increase their hours of work due to insufficient or part-­time manpower replacement for the many younger men called to war. The continual call for more policemen of military age to be released increased the tensions between individual officers and with the Special Constables, so that many of military age monitored each other and themselves to assess who was called up and who was left at home. These conditions in an autocratic structure, combined with the lack of a voice to make their concerns known, led to the police strike of August 1918, when most of the junior and middle-­ranking policemen in the Metropolitan Police marched on Downing Street; this led to the resignation of the Police Commissioner. The surprise that the strike caused the police authorities shows the gulf between the lower and senior grades. Although the Police Union was banned in the Metropolitan Police, its membership subsequently grew in the provincial forces, which showed the continual lack of representation of the concerns of ordinary policemen about their pay and conditions of service.

Notes 1 A Conscientious Objector. 2 Lord Riddell was a solicitor and by World War One had entered the newspaper business as Managing Director of The News of the World and owner of several other newspapers. He was a friend and close ally of David Lloyd George.

References 1 BBC Archives. (2014) 13 August. New Archives Highlight WW1 Conscription Controversy. Staffordshire Archive. 2 Millman, B. (2000) Managing Domestic Dissent in First World War Britain. ­London: Routledge. 3 Klein, J. (2010) Invisible Men: The Secret Lives of Police Constables in Liverpool, Manchester and Birmingham, 1900–1939. Liverpool: Liverpool University Press. 4 The Police Review, Annual and Monthly Leave: Kent. 1 December 1916, p. 478. 5 Emsley, C. (1996) The English Police: A Political and Social History. 2nd edition. Abingdon and New York: Routledge. Chapter 6 shows a similar picture in police forces around England, citing Shropshire, Hull and London as examples. 6 The Police Review, News of Specials in Brief. 30 June 1916, p. 299. 7 The Police Review, Imperial Parliament. Special Constables. 21 July 1916, p. 321. House of Commons Debates, 13 July 1916, vol 84, c544. 8 The Police Review, News of “Specials” in Brief. 9 March 1917, p. 74.

228  Flashpoints and tensions

AU: Please update the author name for this op. cit in Ref. 28.

9 TNA WO 161/107. The War Office, June 1917. The Volunteer Force: the Present Position of the Force. 10 The Police Review, The Regular and Special Constabulary. 14 June 1918, p. 189. 11 The Police Review, Imperial Parliament. House of Commons. 5 March. Special Constables, 16 March 1917, p. 81. House of Commons Debates, 1 March 1917, vol 90, c2146. 12 The Police Review, Police of Military Age. Further enlistments in Liverpool. 1 December 1916, p. 478. 13 The Police Review, Enlistments in Worcester. 1 December 1916, p. 478. 14 The Police Review, Parade Gossip. 17 March 1916, p. 122. 15 The Police Review, News of “Specials” in Brief. 24 November 1916, p. 463. 16 TNA Mepol. 3/254 Metropolitan Police Office: Police Orders. Thursday 23 ­November 1916. 17 TNA Mepol. 3/254. 18 The Police Review, Discontent in Pembrokeshire: Alleged Unfair Treatment. 26 January 1917, p. 28. 19 Police (Weekly Rest Day) Act of Parliament 1910. 20 Klein, J. (2010) Invisible Men: The Secret Lives of Police Constables in Liverpool, Manchester and Birmingham, 1900–1939. Liverpool: Liverpool University Press. 21 Emsley, C. (1996) op. cit. 22 Emsley, C. (1996) op. cit, p. 131. 23 The Police Review, Full pay for lost leave. Police Authorities’ “Roll of Honour”. 30 March 1917, p. 103. 24 The Police Review, Forfeited Leave Days: Bradford. 27 April 1917, p. 131. 25 The Police Review, Notes and Comments. 25 May 1917, p. 165. 26 Adams, R. J. Q. & Poirer, P. P. (1987) The Conscription Controversy in Great Britain, 1900–1918. London: Macmillan. 27 The Police Review, The Police Union: Quarterly Report of the Executive. 14 ­September 1917, p. 293. 28 Op. cit. 29 Klein, J. (2002) Blue- ­Collar Job, Blue- ­Collar Career: English Policemen’s Perplexing Struggle for a Voice in the Early Twentieth Century. Crime History and Societies 6, 1, 5–29. 30 The Police Review, Letters to the Editor. 27 April 1917, p. 131. 31 The Police Review, Policemen of Military Age. 22 February 1918, p. 61. 32 CAB 24/46 G.T. 4030. Troops Available for Home Defence. 25 March 1918. CAB 23/5 W.C. 372. 25 March 1918. See also Grieves, K. (1988) The Politics of Manpower, 1914–1918. Manchester: Manchester University Press. 33 The Police Review, Special Constables for Military Service. 26 April 1918, p. 133. 34 The Police Review, Letters to the Editor. 3 May 1918, p. 139. 35 The Police Review, Policemen’s Union: Trades Council and Alleged Victimisation in Manchester. 26 April 1918, p. 133. 36 Emsley, C. (1996) op. cit. 37 House of Commons Debates. 29 April 1918, vol 105, c1277. 38 The Police Review, Combing Out the Police. 3 May 1918, p. 141. 39 The Police Review, Police and Military Service. 17 May 1918, p. 157. 40 The War Cabinet had reduced the call-­up notice from 14 to 7 days at the end of March 1918. See Grieves, K. (1988) op. cit., p. 187. 41 The Police Review, “A Patriotic Appeal”. A soldier’s criticisms. 17 May 1918, p. 157. 42 CAB 24/54 G.T. 4876. The Man-­Power Situation, 1917–1918, A. Geddes. 17 June 1918. See The Military Categorisation of Military Recruits, Appendix 6, Grieves, K. (1988) op. cit., p. 219. The two sources of the categories were taken from ­Milner mss. Dep. 144, Monthly Summary of Strength of Expeditionary Forces and of forces at Home. May 1917; and Milner mss. Dep. 145, Summaries

Flashpoints and tensions  229

43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60

of Weekly Return of the British Army and dominion Contingents at Home, dated 28 October 1918, both available from the Bodleian Library, Oxford. Emsley, C. (1996) op. cit. The Police Review, The Regular and Special Constabulary: City of London ­Police. 14 June 1918, p. 189. Westminster Gazette. 30 August 1918, from Jones, O. (2007) The ‘Spirit of ­Petrograd’? The 1918 and 1919 Police Strikes. What Next Journal 31, 67–77. House of Commons Debates. 24 July 1918, vol 108, cc1838-9W. House of Commons Debates. 31 July 1918, vol 109, c448W. House of Commons Debates. 8 August 1918, vol 109, c1523. TNA MEPO 3/257A. Telegram from Superintendent of M Division, 7.50AM. 30 August 1918. Hurwitz, S. J. (1968) State Intervention in Great Britain: A Study of Economic Control and Social Response. London: Frank Cass & Co. Ltd, p. 283. TNA MEPO. 3/257A. Day by Day Details of the Strike. Jones, O. (2007) The ‘Spirit of Petrograd’? The 1918 and 1919 Police Strikes. What Next Journal 31, 67–77. The Police Review. 13 September 1918, p. 292. TNA MEPO 3/257A. Superintendent of Limehouse Station, K division. 14 ­September 1918. Daily Express. 2 September 1918, in Jones, O. (2007) The ‘Spirit of Petrograd’? The 1918 and 1919 Police Strikes. What Next Journal No 31, 67–77. TNA HO 45/10792/301945/234. Note by A. L. Dixon. 21 September 1918. Lord Riddell (1933) Lord Riddell’s War Diary 1914–1918. London: Ivor N ­ icholson and Watson. Klein, J. (2010) op. cit., p. 149. TNA MEPO. 3/772. TNA MEPO. 3/257A.

12 Youth crime

The discourse of youth crime included gender, age and social class. Childs says that all societies “agonise over the state of their youth” and that at certain times, particularly when there is a crisis within society’s social systems, fears about youth can reach “nightmarish proportions” [1]. Youth offending was nothing new [2] and was historically often said to be a sign of a national moral decline [3,4], with the insistence that “something must be done.” Before the war, a broad penal policy for young offenders had been set up in legislation enacted between 1906 and 1914, but with the onset of war this gave insufficient time for the proposals to be put into action [5]. By March 1916, the Home Office was seen as sufficiently concerned about youth crime that a letter was sent to Chief Constables in 18 Constabularies across England and Wales asking for statistical returns on the number of offences “committed by children and young persons under 16 years of age” and the increase over the previous year, along with the manner in which Justices had dealt with offenders in the last 6 months. The letter also asked the Chief Constables for their opinions on the causes of the increase, mentioning that films “depicting crimes and exciting adventures” shown in the cinema, automatic gambling machines and air guns were influencing juveniles to commit crimes [6]. Even for locations where an increase had not been noticed, this encouraged further investigation, leading some cities, such as Birmingham to also acknowledge that they had a problem. The discourse of youth crime spread into religious, social welfare and voluntary organisations across Britain and allowed international comparisons [7]. A month after the Chief Constables’ statistical returns, juvenile crime was portrayed in The Police Review to have significantly increased since the previous year, alerting its readers. When the Home Office published the statistics, they portrayed a “grave increase,” especially in theft: For the period covered by these figures the increase in juvenile offences generally is 34 per cent., and the increase in thefts nearly 5o,per cent. (sic) The situation is not confined to any one area. Juvenile lawlessness has spread through the country like a plague. [8]

Youth crime  231 The statistics showed the increase across the seventeen largest towns surveyed [9]. They compared the same 3 months between December and February for 1915 and 1916 to show how juvenile crime had risen from 2,686 to 3,596; cases included larceny, malicious damage, gaming and offences under the Education Acts. The reasons were categorised as not only the influences of the cinema, gambling machines and the dangers of air guns, but also the loss of Boys’ Clubs with the lack of these good influences on the boys. Justices were requested to “induce suitable people to engage in this work” where boys could go in the evenings to keep them off the streets [10]. Penalties for lawlessness showed differences across Britain; Birmingham, Hull and Manchester tended to use probation, whereas Manchester and Sheffield mainly advocated whipping [11]. Concern about youth crime spread from top to bottom in society. Social commentators said 12,500 more children in Britain, nearly all boys, came before the magistrates than before the war started. Bailey said the number of offenders under 16 years of age in Britain had risen from 37,500 in 1914 to 51,000 by 1917 [12]. Adolescent boys generally were seen to be potentially more dangerous than girls; social reformers saw them as needing to be managed with discipline, control and education [13]. The seriousness portrayed in the situation enabled the Home Secretary to set up a committee to “endeavour to check the evil” for the future of these children and for the nation. Reformers feared that if the current situation of youthful crime continued into their adulthood, this would perpetuate the cycle of poverty experienced by so many working-class families, leading to their demoralisation [14]. The influential Howard Association1 said that the war had brought about the current conditions in which these children lived, which precluded their healthy moral growth, bringing the family into the discourse. They said the children’s changed circumstances were felt particularly in the home, with many fathers away at war or working long hours at a distance from home and many mothers also working away from home or demoralised by the war, leading to parental neglect of the youth. Contributing factors to juvenile crime were said to be the shortened hours in school, sometimes due to the buildings being taken over by the military, resulting in combining schools so that pupils from each attended only a half day and juveniles had more time to wander the streets with fewer male teachers to control them, which also brought the school into the discourse of youth crime; the darkened streets also gave more opportunity for crime. However, the increase in crime was not seen as inevitable and could be prevented [15]. By April 1916, in Liverpool, juvenile crime rates were said to be “very serious” with 2,049 cases brought to court compared with 1,913 in 1914 – a rise of 24%. The Liverpool City Justices wished to set up a committee to examine this rise: … to consider the whole question of juvenile crime in Liverpool and its punishment, with directions to report to the justices thereon if such committee thinks it desirable that any action should be taken. [16]

232  Youth crime They attributed the increased crime rates mainly to boys, as was also said in Manchester, where youth crime by boys to December 1915 accounted for 92.2% of all youth crime [17]. The Justices said that with altered circumstances due to the war the increased crime rate had been influenced by: the enormous increased employment of children, and the enormous increased wages they now received. Then there was the fact of the absence in the Army of the fathers of many of the children, and in this connection there was the pathetic thought that many of them would never return. [18] As well as the absence of the controlling influence of the father, social commentators said that working-class youth could earn significant sums of money due to the collapse of apprenticeships, so that youth developed a tendency to move from one relatively well-paid low-skilled job to another, with intervening periods of unemployment, without gaining useful skills in anything that would allow them later to support a family. These blind alley jobs were also tedious and lacking in challenge and without the social control of permanent employment were said to lead the youth to a shifting lifestyle [19]. These work patterns upturned middle class social structures and were seen as a threat to the patriarchal middle-class family, where traditionally the man had learnt a skill, trade or profession and was the breadwinner, with his wife and children relying on his income to provide for their needs; in this way, the husband controlled the lifestyle of the other family members. It also gave him and the family respectability by being seen to earn sufficient regular money so that his wife and children did not have to work. Therefore, now that working-class youth had sufficient money to be able to break loose from family ties to spend their earnings in ways inconsistent with the ­m iddle-class good family life, such as by drinking in public houses, this caused consternation in the police and other traditionally minded members of society, as even the good youth could be led into crime and immorality on a blind impulse; they needed constant family surveillance – youths were said to be prisoners of their own nature so that they could not help being impulsive and were liable to subversion by undesirable influences [20]. Criticisms by the middle classes, to which the police subscribed, of the working-class lifestyle portrayed the latter’s attitudes and values as not respectable. This was particularly seen where they were said to lack forethought, self-control and to be undisciplined and immoral, while the youth had a tendency to delinquency and in the absence of principles they could be thriftless [21]. These traits defined the “other” youth who were said to have established working-class habits which proved stubbornly difficult to attempts by social reformers, including the police, to change. The urgency for reform was because these youths were said to endanger the very future of civilisation not only in Britain but also stretching across the empire [22]. The inquiry in Liverpool was said to be necessary, as the youth were the future

Youth crime  233 of the country and so had to adopt traditional family values. The Chief Constable of Wallasey in Cheshire was also said to be alarmed at the rise in juvenile crime, calling it “delinquency.” He put the rise down to the war spirit, which brought the desire for adventure that could only be gratified through acts of lawlessness. He said there were widespread changes in the country that made youth crime more possible: In thousands of homes the father is absent; in many the mother is employed outside her home; school hours have been curtailed, and there is a serious lack of men teachers in the boys’ departments. The darkened streets and the lessened number of Police, and the absence of social workers from boys’ clubs, Church Brigades, and Scout organisations all have their widespread effect. [23] Acts of lawlessness were particularly attributed to adolescent boys who were about to become adults and would then become full citizens. The good working-class youth needed education to see labour as a moral good for the traditional man in a patriarchal role; he would become the future efficient worker for the good of the community, which was an obligation of citizenship [24]. The Chief Constable appealed to middle- and upper-class women to provide direction to the boys through running clubs and organisations devoted to their interests, which were no longer available due to lack of helpers. In Portsmouth and Birmingham, magistrates and the police were also asked to encourage suitable men to be involved with boys’ clubs, particularly in the evenings, on the advice of the Home Secretary who had invited representatives of leading Boys’ and Girls’ Brigades and Clubs to be members of a Standing Committee at the Home Office [25]. The Home Office encouraged magistrates to revive the work of boys’ clubs on the advice of Charles Russell, who from 1913 had been the Chief Inspector of Reformatory and Industrial Schools [26]. The aim was to strengthen and extend the work of the voluntary organisations involved in youth work [27] by bringing a more streamlined service under the direction of local and national government [28]. The answer to juvenile crime was to occupy the boys with “wholesome recreation and physical training,” to steer them away from “the abnormal influences of the times.” The good youth should have access to regular army-style drilling and discipline, which the police could provide. The Home Office set up the Juvenile Organisations Committee in December 1916 “to consider, in view of the officially reported increases in juvenile delinquency, what steps could be taken to strengthen and extend the work of voluntary agencies concerned with the welfare of boys and girls,” as healthy recreation was seen to prevent juvenile delinquency. They investigated the causes in more detail by requiring the courts in 4 towns to complete statistical returns on 7,000 cases asking for information on the parent’s occupations and income, the number of family members by sex, whether they were over or under 16 years of age and the youth organisations attended by

234  Youth crime the offender. For school children, information was required on the school attended, any paid work undertaken, with the number of hours worked per week and the income. For youths having left school: age on leaving and the standard reached, past and present employment with hours worked and income. Results involved the use of psychology to show that those children from families where the income was said to be below the poverty line had “an additional temptation to dishonesty,” with more than 78% of youth from these homes said to be in poverty committing theft [29]. This confirmed for the police that the youth who needed the most surveillance were those from poor families. Through the Juvenile Organisations Committee, the Home Office encouraged coordination of all public and private youth work on a voluntary basis at local level by providing for local committees to be set up in major towns, also advocated by the Howard Association. Representation on the local Juvenile Organisations Committee was taken up in Wolverhampton, where boys and girls clubs were asked to elect a representative to be joined by others from professional organisations such as teachers and school’s associations and the trade’s council. The Chief Constable also promised his support as he had “already formed a corps of some 200 juveniles who are regularly drilled and disciplined” [30]. Indeed, as the war continued, many police forces were seen to set up clubs for boys to “provide healthy amusement and recreation,” which the police said would help them to lead clean lives so that they would become “good and upright men,” particularly if they were from poor families. In Norwich: The Chief Constable said it had given the members of the Police Force the greatest pleasure to do this work (set up a youth club by renovating premises in their spare time), because he and they felt that the poor man’s child ought to have the same chance of education and recreation as the rich man’s child. From his experience elsewhere he believed the club would be of great value to the youths of the city. [31] This showed the Chief Constable portraying the police as dissociating themselves from the poorer classes, they were able to provide benevolence to these classes and showed a strong desire to do so, but they were not of them. Providing organised education and recreation aimed at giving a practical course in citizenship, so that their lives would be filled with interests and excitement and would prevent them from being led into a criminal lifestyle. Youth clubs run by the police also allowed them closer access to ­working-class youth and their families by befriending them, so that they could be seen by the families in a more positive light by offering much needed help to occupy the youth. It was said to be important to become close to the youth and their families in order to influence them, which also made police surveillance of these families easier. The origins of the youth

Youth crime  235 court system had similar aims, to provide alternative types of recreation to divert youth away from crime to solve social problems through tackling the deprivations of young ­working-class people in order to divert them from criminal ways and to encourage them to play a constructive role in society. Active recreation, rather than punishment, would not only keep youth from becoming criminals and teach them the virtues of citizenship, but it was also said to reform youthful offenders [32]. The Chief Constable of Leeds showed similar trends of an increase in the numbers of youth crimes, mainly seen as shop-breaking and larceny. He warned that the trend should be halted, as “a very serious problem will soon have to be faced, or otherwise the children will be recruited into the criminal classes.” He saw the absence of male teachers to control the children as a cause as well as the war spirit of adventure. The children involved in juvenile crime should be judiciously whipped, which would prove a valuable deterrent to others. He said the answers to juvenile crimes were: The Boy Scouts and Church Lads’ Brigade, both of which I am deeply interested in, should be encouraged, for from my own observations I have found that boys closely associated with these bodies are not only taught physical development, but study a moral code useful to them in school, at home, and in their future life. Healthy entertainment and sport for young children is the best remedy. In many cases this has been resorted to by school teachers, and I have instances in my mind where this form of recreation has greatly benefitted the scholars not only whilst attending school, but has been instrumental in making them good citizens generally. [33] For the Chief Constable of Leeds in 1916, physical and moral developments were the answer for boys to make them into good citizens. However, for girls in 1917, he was pleased to see less crime and put this down to the women patrols, who assisted with “promoting a higher moral code among the girls” [34] by showing them how to become a good citizen. By 1916, the police saw juvenile crime as gendered – wayward girls were mainly the province of women supported by the contemporary belief in women’s “moral superiority” [35]. One of the only occasions on which The Police Review became heavily involved with reports on juvenile crime in girls was in the stages of the Criminal Law Amendment Bill in 1917 because of the implications for the police of arresting girls under 18 for disorderly conduct on the streets. The proposed Clause 3 was heavily criticised by women’s organisations, as it authorises Magistrates to sentence girls under 18, on a first conviction for disorderly conduct, to detention until she attains the age of 19, in a

236  Youth crime State Rescue Home, and, this, it is urged, without any safeguards as to proper evidence or investigation. The main objection is that arrests will be made at the discretion of the Police, and convictions will rest mainly on Police evidence. [36] The gendered role of the police in juvenile crime was seen everywhere (see Chapter 5). Incarceration was the answer. Increases, mainly in youth crime by boys were also seen by the Metropolitan Police, as the Commissioner’s report for 1916 showed: Children under 16 years of age to the number of 6,023 were taken into custody for various offences during 1916 as compared with 4,744 in 1915, due, the Commissioner thinks, to fathers serving in the field, mothers being engaged in temporary employment, and the darkness of the streets during the early part of the year. Stealing growing fruit is especially mentioned as on the increase. [37] The lack of control of the youth by their parents to keep them at home and give them good examples of what a family life should be was seen by the Commissioner as a cause of the offences, as well as the darkened streets giving the opportunity when they were outside the home. Boys had too much spare time on their own left to their own devices. By mid-1917, The Police Review showed its readers how children should be seen and the reasons for the ways the courts treated them when they offended. It followed the Children Act of 1908 [38], saying that hearings against children should be separate from those for adults by portraying juvenile offenders as needing to be segregated from adult criminals, particularly by the use of special courts set up to try them, as they could be reformed and not punished for misbehaviour as with adults. By segregating youth from hardened criminals, the former would not be contaminated by the latter. The majority of juvenile lawbreakers should not be seen as hardened criminals – they were victims of circumstances, “more sinned against than sinners.” This legislation enabled the expansion of youth and child services primarily concerned with welfare and training and with the emphasis on rehabilitation rather than punishment. Children from 14 to 16 were: as amendable to good influences as they are susceptible to evil, and the prime object of the juvenile court is to remove the child from vicious companionship and associations before criminal tendencies become ingrained and established. [39]

Youth crime  237 Their removal from bad circumstances would save them from becoming hardened criminals, said to be a rare occurrence [40]. Despite the high number of juvenile convictions, this did not mean that the majority of a­ dolescents were delinquent. By the juvenile courts giving light sentences, this would save them for the whole of society as they had their lives before them. They could make a new start in the right circumstances. ­A lthough the Howard Association advocated probation, with the ­probation officer being able to provide “interests, guidance and an ideal” [41] it would i­ nvolve the child living at home, so that the whole family was under ­s urveillance by the probation officer which “gave the court and authorities a chance to find out about the home” [42]. But the use of probation was seen by the Chief Constable of Edinburgh as only suitable for first-time offenders. He portrayed juveniles in Edinburgh as not being affected by previous measures to control them and they were now resorting to more serious crime, such as “violating the security of houses, shops, and other premises.” He saw these crimes as having escalated from previous acts of simple theft. With the Chief Constable and the Watch ­C ommittee ­a nswerable to the ratepayers, strong pressure would have been put on them, particularly by the more affluent classes, to stop these serious increases in juvenile crime. The Chief Constable also agreed that more hardened juvenile offenders were the product of their surroundings and therefore should be removed from them and placed in a Reformatory School to segregate them to have any hope of reform. These children needed discipline and control, which a reformatory school would give them to make them into “useful and respected members of society” [43]. He showed that when youth resorted to more serious forms of crime from the previous simple crime which warranted probation, the next step would be to take them into custody, but “while many maintained that the reformatory was the last resort, it was frequently resorted to” [44]. For the police, repeated offences warranted being taken into custody under Section 58 of the Children Act 1908, creating a hierarchy of surveillance, discipline and social control of youth and the family by “institutions, qualified personnel, legal apparatuses and relational norms that sought to take control of childhood” [45]. The police, as a cog in this apparatus, were taught through their journal about the process of taking a youth or child into custody not only for the child but also to involve the parents: Give the provision of Section 58 of the Children Act, 1908. Detail the circumstances under which a magistrate can send a child to an industrial school, and state what you know of the parent’s liability after a child has been so sent. [46]

238  Youth crime And in 1916: A warrant is issued by a Justice to remove a child or young person from a house. Who may execute it and what person may accompany Police? [47] The importance of sending criminal youth or those in bad circumstances away from their parents to somewhere he was safe or to an industrial school was said to be to provide the good influences and moral character training needed and gave hope that he would take on middle-class values to become a useful member of society. Once in custodial care, youth were exposed to a combination of academic and moral education, industrial training and military-style discipline; this would make them into docile bodies – ­obedient men and women [48] who conformed to and obeyed authority. The youth who were most likely to be given custodial sentences were those that the magistrates, police and other court officials saw as from problem families [49], derived from an assessment of the character of the parents. Youth were also identified by a seeming lack of parental supervision, particularly seen during the war, and defiant and unruly behaviour. Investigations of the locality showed the decisions of magistrates varied widely, and often depended on their caseload showing classifications of magistrates and linking this to their decisions: “because of their heavy case loads urban magistrates were forced to be more lenient than those in the villages” [50]. Youth in an urban environment often had more warnings before being committed, whereas rural youth tended to be treated more severely on their first offences. This was intended to give an example to others. The journal showed the good police officer’s role in being responsible for creating the good youth who would be a regular wage earner and so the police role in promoting the good family within society. This was further reinforced later in 1918 in the journal’s education column: Report fully on Orders under the heading of “Industrial Schools”, defining what is an industrial school, and setting out (1) the various circumstances under which by the provisions of the Children Act, section 58, any person may bring children before a magistrate, and (2) the further powers of a magistrate in respect to the sending of children to an industrial school. [51] The child or youth needed these good influences, some by being segregated from society for a number of years, as critical for his development to become a good citizen for the future of the nation and the empire, particularly as the end of the war was approaching. Good children learnt the principles of punctuality, regularity, accuracy, prompt obedience, attention, order, self-control and cleanliness while being subject to constant moral discipline

Youth crime  239 in school [52]. Such children and youth would rebuild the nation in peacetime. Unfortunately, for many good working-class children when they left school, it was said that their years of obedience were suddenly replaced by excessive freedom, disorder and lack of guidance which could dissolve all the good done in the school to build their personal character, while middle class children had their character watched over and controlled by their parents and teachers, so that they did not cause these kinds of problems. For juvenile delinquents, who had developed bad behaviours, the answer of keeping them away from the rest of society in either a Reformatory School or a remand home was jeopardised due to the increase in juvenile crime, so that by mid-1917 these institutions had few spaces available [53]. This was a severe problem for the police with youth they said were persistent and hardened criminals, as the Children Act 1908 prohibited those under 14 from being sent to prison and only youth between 14 and 16 could be sent there in exceptional circumstances when the court certified they were so unruly or depraved that they could not be detained in a certified school [54]. Furthermore, The Children Act, 1908, Section 106, allowed committal to a place of detention for up to a month in a remand home, but few children or young people were committed, as it prevented the use of probation on a subsequent occasion [55]. Criticisms of the courts being too lenient with juvenile offenders were often seen during the period and other ways of treating them were preferred by the police. They said that for the very few children who did not respond to the kindness and consideration given by probation and indeed could take advantage of it, the answer was the whipping post which may be “the most effective deterrent,” but it could not reform the youthful offender, it could only deter others. However, the whipping of boys was controversial. The Chief Inspector of reformatory and industrial schools Charles Russell supported the magistrate’s choice of the penalty of whipping for boys under 16 and for specific cases in boys aged between 14 and 16 as it didn’t count as a conviction and it could be combined with probation. However, at Old Street Magistrates and Children’s Court in London between 1915 and 1916, Magistrate William Clarke-Hall found 30% of boys who were whipped committed further crimes, leading him to stop advocating whipping. Other social workers and probation officers also advocated the abolition of whipping [56]. But, the Home Office Departmental Committee on the Treatment of Young Offenders in 1925/1926 showed that the Chief Constables’ Association had continued to advocate the wider use of whipping in conjunction with a probation order in preference to other methods such as committing the offender to a certified school [57], so keeping the youth in his home. The Chief Constable of Glasgow agreed that “the only real deterrent … is whipping,” while in Portsmouth out of 24 cases in the 3 months ending February 1916, 15 were whipped (62.5%) being the method of choice for “certain cases,” a similar proportion to the previous year [58]. But The Police Review said that although this was a very effective deterrent, it was not able to reform the

240  Youth crime youth to make for a strong and stable character which should be the aim of dealing with a young delinquent [59]. Some Chief Constables advised magistrates to give heavier penalties to the parents of “wayward children,” as they agreed that even whipping had lost its terror for the youth [60]. However, the Howard Association generally deprecated whipping as it “arrests the child’s imagination, (and) debases his character” [61], and because there was also often at least a week between the original offence and the punishment, making it meaningless. If it was to be administered at all, it should be by the head teacher at the time of the offence, as they knew the boy better than the magistrate and so could judge if this was the most suitable punishment. But administering a good thrashing with a cane for boys caught stealing, although controversial, had some public support, with a recommendation that the police and special constables should carry a cane to administer this punishment [62]. A Tottenham magistrate also advocated caning for “rowdy boys” and that policemen should carry a series of canes of different sizes in a golf bag along with their truncheons [63]. Indeed, magistrates’ courts were said to have “an unparalleled enthusiasm for whipping young offenders.” Up to 1914, the courts gave around 2,000 sentences of whipping. This rose sharply during the First World War: in 1915 – 3,514; in 1916 – 4,864; to a highpoint in 1917 – 5,210 [64]. The Chief Constable of Carnarvon agreed that corporal punishment was needed as well as parents needing to control their children to prevent a further increase in juvenile crime. The combination of lax parental control and school regulations which prohibited classroom teachers from giving corporal punishment he said led to the increase in juvenile crime: The Chief Constable of Caernarvonshire is of the opinion that the increase in juvenile crime is largely attributable to the lax control exercised by parents, and also the regulations in the schools prohibiting corporal punishment by class teachers. Present-day discipline, he said, was considerably different from what it used to be, and he believed that heavier punishment occasionally might have a salutary effect. [65] This widespread use of corporal punishment was seen as one method advocated by many policemen and magistrates to deter boys. Punishment of the child or youth for “what is evil in the child” was said to be laid down in the Children Act, 1908. This gave the parents or schoolmaster (sic), to whom the parents delegated responsibility to control the child or to administer punishment when he was both inside and outside the school, the right to inflict moderate and reasonable corporal punishment. But if the punishment was excessive: the violence is unlawful, and if evil consequences to life or limb ensue, then the person is answerable to the law. [66]

Youth crime  241 This gave guidance to the police in where they should intervene to protect the child from inappropriate and excessive adult authority. The police were also taught that minor infringements of the law, such as breaking windows were the responsibility of the parents or guardians to pay for the damage by a fine, damages and costs which might be awarded by the courts. Courts could also order the parents to “give security for his good behaviour” [67]. Fines were also used by the Police Courts in some locations as a penalty for hooliganism: Strong complaints of hooliganism in the streets of Leeds on Sunday nights were made at the City Police Court recently, when fines were imposed on a number of youths and boys for disorderly conduct. Supt. Blakey, who prosecuted said it was a common thing for youths and boys to get drunk south of the river, and then to cross into Briggate and make disturbances, boys and youths resorting there in gangs. There appeared to be two factors, one of which was composed of Jewish boys, who came armed with sticks. When the factions met there was trouble, and the Special Constables were powerless. When any civilian interfered and the Specials intervened, the gangs joined forces and rescued their comrades. A week ago the Specials were seriously maltreated. [68] The combination of drink and xenophobia of the Jews was portrayed as inevitably leading to trouble at night, which the public were unable to control and particularly the Special Constables were powerless to make a difference. This confirmed for the regular police that the Special Constables were less able to keep the peace than they were, and so another reason to support the continuation of as many regular constables as could be kept on the Home Front. Hooliganism had been defined since the beginning of the 1910s as “all restraint is cast aside … and the young labourer, at the critical age of adolescence, becomes a victim of whim and impulse, finding an outlet for his newly awakened energies in some form of hooliganism and in the excitement of the streets” [69]. Social commentators were worried that young workers were given a premature adult status which in a modern city exposed them to all kinds of undesirable influences that encouraged them to defy authority. For at least the last decade, the activities of youth on the streets of the cities were seen as central to signs of the nation’s degeneration [70]. According to some police commentators in their journal, including Chief Constables, fining the juveniles only led to more of the same behaviour, where the youth were impervious to fines and this type of punishment did not control them. The threat of civil unrest caused by working-class hooliganism would have rekindled worries about the threat of social disorder by the working classes, including youth from the age of 14, which occurred immediately before the First World War, often by organised trade unions protesting at signs of affluence by the middle and upper classes at a time of rising prices; this unrest was said to be a great threat [71].

242  Youth crime But arresting children was seen to need special attention. The Police Review taught its readers how to deal with children and youths who were charged with an offence and would have to appear before a juvenile court: What is a Station Officer to do immediately when children are charged with an offence for which they have to appear at a Juvenile Court? [72] And how they should deal with them once taken into custody: What procedure must be followed in the case of arrest of a child or young person, and when can such be kept in Police custody. [73] Also, the difference for police practice between dealing with an adult court and a juvenile court. What are the directions as to entering charges on charge sheets for the ordinary and Juvenile Courts? [74] The police were portrayed as having a moral responsibility for youth. Their ideas of leading a decent life involved the use of alcohol. The Chief Constables’ Association showed its social conscience by the deep concern expressed over the number of youth between 14 and 18 drinking in public houses, although there were no suggestions of arrests for drunkenness, but the police should recommend to government how to control youthful drinking: The war had created amongst young people a kind of spurious, artificial independence. Notwithstanding the attractions of their homes, they appeared to have got out of hand, and night after night they found Leicester public-houses literally packed with young people of ages ranging from 14 or 15 to 20 consuming alcoholic drinks. The very atmosphere of these promiscuous assemblies of young people imbibing intoxicating liquors and indulging in unwholesome conversation tended to the reduction in their physical vitality. [75] They saw the good youth as needing to be dependent on their parents and at home with them, rather than out with others of similar ages drinking alcohol in public houses – “Youthful independence … (had become) defined as a problem” [76] with the growing boy, particularly if from the lower social classes, being regarded with suspicion as soon as he showed signs of autonomy [77]. The previous quotation shows that youth also needed their conversations to be supervised by adults, otherwise the combination of alcohol,

Youth crime  243 meeting with others of a similar age in public houses, drinking alcohol and indulging in unwholesome conversations would reduce their physical vitality [78]; these were the signs of a developing morally corrupt youth. The good youth held the values of the patriarchal family, to which the police subscribed; the responsibility on the family was to create: the development of physical and moral “character” suitable for defenders of the empire, “adaptable” wage-earners, and democratic citizens. [79] The middle-class “character” involved self-control, stamina, sobriety and thrift [80]. The answer to creating the good youth, according to the police, would involve raising the age limit at which they could buy and consume alcohol in a public house; a measure that would affect the general welfare of the community. However, after the war, the rate of juvenile crime diminished to its prewar level [81], and so it retreated in importance while other pressing social problems were seen to arise with demobilisation. In conclusion, from at least 1916, the discourse of the control of youth crime spread from top to bottom of British society and involved international comparisons. It brought in government, academic experts, social commentators, national voluntary organisations, schools and local organisations as well as the police. Through government investigations of the family, problems were identified with mainly working-class youth from poor families. This intensified police and social work investigations and surveillance through close befriending of the family and youth; most effective at changing behaviour was seen as either probation or the youth club. This would allow monitoring of both family and youth behaviour to encourage them to adopt middle-class values that would ensure the future of the good society. Becoming close to these families allowed the police surveillance not only to the youth but also to the whole family, so that they could attempt moral control of lawlessness and promote the ways of good citizenship. Police work shows they do not consider themselves as part of the lower working classes, particularly in relation to the problems of adolescence, although many came from these classes. They saw themselves as part of the good middle-class reformers by trying to achieve good working-class men who would be respectable, hold a permanent working-class job and support a wife and family. To this extent, the police portrayed themselves as a cog in the wheel of encouragement to boys to end the cycle of poverty so evident before the war, which demoralised many working-class families by low wages and only casual work, leading to the economic and social distress associated with insufficient income. The police were part of the many groups of adults who sought to train, supervise and control youth, without which they saw there would be the continued threat of urban degeneration and racial deterioration.

244  Youth crime

Note 1 From 1921 The Howard League for Penal Reform.

References 1 Childs, M. J. (1992) Labour’s Apprentices: Working-Class Lads in Late Victorian and Edwardian England. London: The Hambledon Press, p. xiii. 2 Henrick, H. (1990) Images of Youth: Age, Class and the Male Youth Problem, 1880–1920. Oxford: Clarendon Press. 3 Muncie, J. (2015) Youth & Crime. 4th edition. London: Sage. 4 Henrick, H. (1990) op. cit. 5 Bailey, V. (1987) Delinquency and Citizenship: Reclaiming the Young Offender, 1914–1948. Oxford: Clarendon Press, p. 61. 6 TNA HO 45/10790/301145. Letter from G. A. Aitken at the Home Office dated 9 March 1916. 7 TNA HO 45/10790/301145. Juvenile Crime. Paper read at the meeting of the Congregational Union. Birmingham. 3 October 1916. 8 Leeson, C. (1917) The Child and the War. Report by the Howard Association. London: P.S. King & Son Ltd. 9 Cited in Springall, J. (1986) Coming of Age: Adolescence in Britain 1860–1960. Dublin: Gill and Macmillan. 10 TNA HO 45/10790/301145. Letter to the Clerk of the Justices from Edward Troup dated 11 May 1916. 11 TNA HO 45/10790/301145. Reports from Chief Constables dated 11 April 1916. 12 Bailey, V. (1987) op. cit., p. 17. 13 Hendrick, H. (1990) op. cit., p. 7. 14 Hendrick, H. (1990) op. cit., p. 9. 15 Leeson, C. (1917) op. cit. 16 The Police Review, Juvenile Crime: Serious increase in Liverpool. 20 April 1916, p. 192. 17 TNA HO 45/10790/301145. Conference on Special Schools Work, Manchester. October 1916. 18 The Police Review. 20 April 1916 op. cit. 19 Beaven, B. (2005) Leisure, Citizenship and Working-Class Men in Britain, 1850– 1954. Manchester: Manchester University Press. 20 Hall, G. S. (1904) Adolescence was a highly influential text. Also influential was J. G. Slaughter (The Adolescent, 1910) who advocated “years of discipline” so that the youth’s newly made character had sufficient stability to prevent it from being overturned, and Sir Thomas Clouston who said the nature of youth had a tendency to law-breaking and crime, amongst other “pathological, mental and moral conditions” which needed education, discipline and control. See The Psychology of Youth in Kelynack, T. N. (ed.) (1913) Youth. 21 Hendrick, H. (1990) op. cit., p. 11. 22 Beaven, B. (2005) op. cit. 23 The Police Review, “The War Spirit”. 20 April 1916, p. 192. 24 Hendrick, H. (1990) op. cit. 25 TNA HO 45/10790/301145. Juvenile Offences. Paper read at Conference at ­Portsmouth, 16 November 1916. Juvenile Crime. Paper read at the meeting of the Congregational Union, Birmingham 3 October 1916. 26 By 1914, Industrial and Reformatory schools (also known as certified schools) had been set up by Acts of Parliament. Originally, industrial schools could house day pupils, which were seen as the first resort following probation. Some

Youth crime  245

27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56

industrial schools were devoted to custodially sentenced pupils, which was the next resort if the day school made no difference to offending behaviour. The industrial schools were intended for children whose parents could not look after them or were orphaned or abandoned, to prevent them from leading a life of crime. Reformatory schools were originally intended for children following criminal proceedings against them and many had already received other forms of punishment; these schools were entirely custodial. However, by 1914, both types of custodial schools housed similar pupils, their difference mainly being lost. Mahood. L. (1995) Policing Gender, Class and Family: Britain, 1850–1940. London: UCL Press; Shore, H. (2008) ‘Punishment, Reformation, or Welfare: Responses to ‘The Problem’ of Juvenile Crime in Victorian and Edwardian Britain’. In Johnstone, H. (ed.), Punishment and Control in Historical Perspective. Basingstoke and Hampshire: Palgrave Macmillan, pp. 158–176. Bailey, V. (1987) op. cit., p. 11. Hendrick, H. (1990) op. cit., p. 11. TNA HO 45/16515. Juvenile Organisations Committee. Board of Education. A Report on Juvenile Delinquency (n.d.). The Police Review, Notes and Comments. 26 October 1917, p. 341. The Police Review, Police and Juveniles: Good Work at Norwich. 22 March 1918, p. 93. Bradley, K. (n.d.) Juvenile Delinquency and the Evolution of the British Juvenile Courts, c. 1900–1950. History in Focus: Institute of Historical Research. The Police Review, Increase in Juvenile Crime: Observations by the Chief Constable of Leeds. 2 June 1916, p. 260. The Police Review, Women Patrols and Juvenile Crime. 8 June 1917, p. 178. Mahood, L. (1995) op cit., p. 70. The Police Review, The Criminal Law Amendment Bill. 4 May 1917, p. 141. The Police Review, Metropolitan Commissioners report for 1916. 6 January 1918, p. 6. Children Act, 1908 8 Ed. 7. Ch. 67. The Police Review, Children’s Courts. 5 April 1917, p. 109. Russell, C. E. B. (1917) The Problem of Juvenile Crime. Barnett House papers, 1, 5. London: University of Oxford. Leeson, C. (1917) op. cit., p. 48. Mahood. L. (1995) op. cit., p. 76. The Police Review, Juvenile Crime: Edinburgh Chief Constable’s Comments. 12 April 1918, p. 114. Mahood. L. (1995) op. cit., p. 76. Ibid., p. 7. The Police Review, Examination. 17 May 1918, p. 166. The Police Review, Viva voce examination. 20 April 1916, p. 197. Foucault, M. (1977) Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison. London: Penguin. Mahood. L. (1995) op. cit., p. 102. Mahood. L. (1995) op. cit., p. 78. The Police Review, Our Education Column. 9 August 1918, p. 259. Butler, C. V. (1912) Social Conditions in Oxford. London: London School of ­Economics Library, The Women’s Library Collection, p. 163. The Police Review, Imperial Parliament: House of Commons. 20 August. ­Juvenile Offenders. 24 August 1917, p. 266. Bailey, V. (1987) op. cit., p. 58. Bailey, V. (1987) op. cit., p. 58. Bailey, V. (1987) op. cit., pp. 59–61.

246  Youth crime 57 Bailey, V. (1987) op. cit., p. 61. 58 TNA HO 45/10790/301145. Juvenile Offences. Paper read at Conference in Portsmouth. 16 November 1916. 59 The Police Review, Youthful Offenders: Corporal Punishment as a Deterrent. 14 September 1917, p. 293. 60 The Police Review, Parade Gossip. 7 July 1916, p. 311. 61 Leeson, C. (1917) op. cit., p. 60. 62 The Police Review, Notes and Comments. 14 September 1917, p. 293. 63 The Police Review, Parade Gossip. 19 May 1916, p. 236. 64 Pearson, G. (1983) Hooligan: A History of Respectable Fears. Basingstoke: ­Palgrave Macmillan. 65 The Police Review, Parade Gossip. 24 November 1916, p. 464. 66 The Police Review, Our Education Column: Lesson No. 1,131. Cruelty to Children. 27 April 1917, p. 131. 67 The Police Review, Our Education Column: Lesson No. 1,195. Police Knowledge: Responsibility of Parent for Offences Committed by Children. 2 August 1918, p. 246. 68 The Police Review, News of “Specials” in Brief. 8 June 1917, p. 183. 69 Greenwood, A. (1911) Juvenile Labour Problems. Child. October 31–32. 70 Beaven, B. (2005) op. cit. 71 Meacham, S. (1972) The sense of impending clash: English Working-Class ­Unrest before the First World War. American Historical Review 77, 5, 1343–1351. Pelling, H. (1979) Popular Politics and Society in Late Victorian Britain. London: Macmillan; see particularly pp. 147–164 on labour unrest 1911–1914. 72 The Police Review, Examination Questions. 26 May 1916, p. 245. 73 The Police Review, Examination Questions. 5 May 1916, p. 221. 74 The Police Review, Viva Voce examinations. 11 August 1916, p. 347. 75 The Police Review, Chief Constables’ Association: Drinking Amongst Young People. 25 May 1917, p. 166. 76 Muncie, J. (2015) op. cit., p. 66. 77 Hendrick, H. (1990) op. cit., p. 4. 78 Physical vitality was linked to Social Darwinism, eugenics and the discourse of national efficiency where everyone had to be as fit as possible in order to compete internationally for survival and supremacy, of crucial importance in wartime; see Hendrick, H. (1990) op. cit., pp. 22–24. 79 Hendrick, H. (1990) op. cit., p. 5. 80 Hendrick, H. (1990) op. cit., p. 32. 81 Bailey, V. (1987), p. 62.

13 The police and food control

This chapter follows from Chapter 6. The discourse of the police and food control shows that from June 1917 with the appointment of Lord Rhondda as Food Controller, who replaced Lord Devonport as head of the Ministry of Food, the control of the supply and distribution of food resulted in more equal distribution across Britain, so that social class and income were not so much of a determining factor in the type and quantity of food consumed. The huge government programme to control the population’s access to and purchasing of food involved the police not only in controlling the food queues, but also in enforcing measures to control the food supply. Control involved huge numbers of staff mainly at local level to identify households, individuals and retailers of items in short supply, such as sugar, tea, butter, margarine and meat. Through the distribution of tokens for the purchase of these items from retailers with whom individuals had to register, this was said to regulate the amounts of scarce items bought and consumed by local people. Infringements of the regulations were not uncommon, and the police acted to prosecute those contravening them, usually by fining retailers and individuals but occasionally by imprisonment. Their crimes were made public through the press. Despite Lloyd George becoming Prime Minister in December 1916, the turning point for food policy was not reached until mid-1917; before this, voluntary dietary restriction was the policy, which failed to gain public support, particularly in less affluent areas, and led to labour agitation and threats of unrest. Investigations of industrial unrest found that the supply of food was at the heart of the discontent. Government control was seen as essential and advocated by many, including labour organisations and trade unions [1]. In August 1917, the Food Controller set up a regional administrative structure by dividing Britain into seventeen units – eleven in ­England, three in Scotland, two in Wales and one in Ireland – each with its own ­ Divisional Food Commissioner, administrative and legal staff. To assist the divisional commissioners to enforce and administer the ministerial orders were approximately 1,900 local food control committees, reconstituted from the committees previously set up by Lord Devonport [2]. These previous committees had been criticised by trade unionists as being dominated by

248  The police and food control farmers and tradesmen; the new local committees were to be more representative of the local community and should include at least one labour representative and one woman among their 12 members. Later, particularly in large cities, the numbers of trade union and women members increased. One of the main functions of the local committees was to license all retailers of rationed items with the local authority and all wholesalers with the central office. Control of the food orders was also to be undertaken by each local authority, with penalties of fines, removal of a trader’s license and/or in a few cases imprisonment [3]. By mid-1918, this vast bureaucratic structure of central, regional and local food control contained enforcement, inspection and prosecution of the regulations at each level, which Lord Rhondda recognised was a costly undertaking but essential if food control was to be effective [4, 5]. Each level monitored the performance of the level(s) below and could enforce the regulations if they failed to do so [6] and brought a further role for the police, in which they asked their journal for advice: … it is clear that right of entry for purpose of inspection, etc. can only be following the issue of a special regulation vesting Police with this exceptional power. [7] The writer framed his question under Defence of the Realm Act (DORA), Regulation 2F, which at this time encouraged everyone to voluntarily eat less and to ban waste, with national publicity on how to reduce food intake. But the Regulation from early 1917 also gave the Food Controller wide-­­ ranging powers to regulate “the production, manufacture, treatment, use, consumption, transport, storage, distribution, sale or purchase of, or other dealing … for the purpose of encouraging or maintaining the food supply of the country” [8]. The police were told through their journal that contravention was a summary offence [9]. The Police Review advised its readers that policemen did not have the power of entry for inspection without special authority from the Food Controller. However, although they should not enter premises, reports in the press showed that prosecutions had been brought on people where bread had been thrown away (a scarce food which was a staple in the diet, particularly of the working classes) which was found in dustbins, relying on surveillance by neighbours of each other who could then tip off the police to inquire further into the matter [10]. Also, more general waste of food resulted in a conviction: A Lincolnshire farmer finding himself able to buy seven stone of rock cakes cheaply from an Army canteen used them to feed pigs; as the food executive officer and a police sergeant were able to pick some of the cakes out of a swill-­tub and taste them without bad consequences, the farmer was fined £10 for wasting human food. [11]

The police and food control  249 The police were advised that they could only take action in “such cases as come to their notice while in the exercise of their regular duties” [12]. Convictions for wasting food reinforced the 1917 voluntary campaign to eat less bread, which was well publicised in churches, cinemas, in the press and in leaflets widely distributed, followed by well-­publicised convictions for wasting bread [13]. Fixing food prices by central government control began in September 1917, with many items controlled at wholesale and retail levels [14,15]. But there were many contraventions followed by convictions, seen in the ten most active months of February to November 1918, where on average 100 people were prosecuted with 92% successfully convicted, convictions dropped to an average of 70 per day following the end of the war. The National Food Journal summarised the number of prosecutions and successful convictions under the Food Control Orders for 1918 as shown in Table 3 below. Fines were often imposed: in Britain, the average fine was £4, 7 shillings and 2 pence, which was not trivial – they were often said to be for selling above the fixed maximum price. Imprisonment without a fine was also an option, although not commonly used, but the publicity given by this and the fines were said to provide a deterrent [16]. As a result of price fixing, by October 1917 there was a flurry of letters to the police journal on the number of Food Control Orders, in excess of 100 with further supplements and amendments said to be constantly issued. This was also in response to Lord Rhondda’s request to local authorities across the United Kingdom to set up a Food Committee with an Executive Officer and a local Food Office. As sugar had become a scarce item and was a staple in the diet, the local Food Office’s first task was to make a register of all households, to register retailers of sugar and to set up a distribution scheme. By the end of September 1917, the Post Office had delivered application forms to households, to be completed and returned to the local Food Office by 6 October. Within 3 weeks, households received a sugar card and were told they should register with one retailer of their choice to buy sugar. By 23 November, retailers received authorisation from the Food Offices to buy sugar from their wholesaler. This allowed a further 5 weeks for the distribution of sugar to be adjusted across the country to meet household demand. The scheme enabled households to use their cards with their chosen Table 3  Prosecutions and Convictions under the Food Control Orders 1918. England Scotland Wales Ireland Total Great Britain

24,296 prosecutions 1,909 prosecutions 2,452 prosecutions 13,870 prosecutions 28,657 prosecutions

22,380 convicted 1,830 convicted 2,153 convicted 12,379 convicted 26,363 convicted

92.1% 95.8% 87.8% 89.2% 92.0%

250  The police and food control retailer with whom they had registered and to be confident of being able to buy their allowance. However, registering households rather than individuals pinned them to a local retailer and was severely criticised, when many in the population were mobile for work; the scheme also did not take account of those moving house or soldiers and sailors home on leave. In December, those who had not registered under the household scheme were required to register in London to obtain an identity card which they would produce at a Post Office to receive a weekly sugar coupon to exchange for sugar at any retailer. Each household was also required to complete a new declaration form for each member of the household to give to a retailer who would send the form to the local Food Control Committee for checking and forwarding to the central office in London. Although this required households to complete a new set of forms, few were said to complain; such was the desperation to find a solution to the serious food shortages and queues. Retailers would give each person a sugar ticket to exchange for sugar. This transferred the previous locally administered scheme into a national scheme. The system was in place by 31 December 1917 and everyone received their half pound of sugar; it formed the basis for rationing of further scarce food items during 1918 [17]. However, sugar was not the only scarce item; margarine had also become scarce and was another reason for food queues, with the resulting suffering of the working classes, while the wealthy were merely inconvenienced [18]. Lord Rhondda made Local Food Committees responsible for abolishing queuing by issuing the Food Control Committees (Local Distribution) Order on 22 December 1917, with a memorandum to the Committees a week later explaining their powers and how model schemes would work. In setting up rationing, he was clear that it should be a scheme “to secure that in times of stringency the essential foods are distributed first and foremost to the essential workers, i.e. are distributed in the national interest and not according to the purchasing power of the individual” [19]. The Order affected retailers’ requisition and distribution, as every customer should be registered with one retailer for margarine who should divide his supplies equally between his customers while not registering more customers than he could serve. The scheme allowed Local Food Committees discretion in whether retailers should be registered for one or two food items or more, but all schemes must be approved centrally by the Food Controller and allowances of each item must not exceed the maximum stated by the Food Controller [20–22]. This was adopted by Local Food Committees without hesitation and brought tight control of distribution and consumption of scarce food items across Britain. It also allowed the Food Controller to compare local schemes across Britain to encourage uniform arrangements. Due to the flurry of memoranda, orders and correspondence about food, the Chief Constable of Exeter said it was impossible for every member of his force to keep pace with them. He had set up a new branch to specialise in the orders so that traders could approach them for advice; also, a complaint

The police and food control  251 by the public would be referred to the branch, to be investigated and action taken: The members of the department will be required to make themselves thoroughly conversant with the many and complex orders issued by the Food Controller and the regulations made by the local Food Committee. But a feature of the arrangement is that the new branch is intended not so much to obtain convictions as to prevent contraventions of the orders, and by explaining both to the public and the dealers the terms and meanings of the orders to ensure the smooth and effective working of food control. [23] This showed the police portraying themselves as having a social conscience to help, rather than only to convict, with the hope that this would bring them closer to retailers and the public to improve surveillance. The new branch also furthered links between the police and local authorities in the new area of food regulation. The Chief Constable said he hoped the mere existence of this new branch would make for more careful study and observance of the regulations. Other columns in the journal said that local food committees, with the responsibility to monitor food prices daily, were issuing so many and such complex orders that policemen who claimed no special expertise could not understand them and so could not enforce them [24]. However, the example of Exeter’s policies, naming the column Exeter’s Lead to the Country, led to a challenge by another writer who claimed Exeter was not unique nor was leading the way in food control as “special officers have been appointed for the purpose in a great many Forces, including the one to which I belong, and have been engaged in the work for months” [25], showing the level of competition to gain prominence in the journal for their recognition of good work. However, as the war progressed within the discourse of food control, there arose a discourse of food hoarding said to be a serious issue, in which their journal received numerous letters asking for advice on the role of the police. The Food Hoarding Order of 15 April 1917 [26] forbade anyone to “acquire any article of food so that the quantity in his (sic) possession or under his control at any one time exceeds the quantity required for ordinary use or consumption in his household or establishment” but was not implemented until early 1918, when the Food Committees started to enforce it, despite questions in the House of Commons in 1917 asking for stricter control noting that poorer people were becoming dissatisfied at seeing the indulgence of the rich [27]. A furore which spread across Britain and lasted for several weeks was created in the West Riding of Yorkshire by publication of an article showing the lavish diets eaten by the wealthy at The Ritz, it fuelled claims that hoarding by the rich was causing the food shortages [28]. Under the Order, powers were given to Food Inspectors to enter any

252  The police and food control premises where they suspected hoarding, except by food producers and traders. They secured convictions, fines and in some cases imprisonment too, against hoarders. Hoarding became prominent following Conscience Week on 11 February 1917 when Food Control Committees gave an amnesty until 25 February to allow the surrender of all food hoarded, which was to be sold and the proceeds given to the person surrendering. But although the results were disappointing, the message that hoarding was a serious matter was made well known and was everybody’s business to control it. This called for a stricter definition of what constituted hoarding, with questions in the House of Commons [29], so that everyone could be aware of their relatives, friends and neighbour’s habits and could report them to the police or the food control authorities where they had suspicions that the law was being infringed. The Police Review confirmed that the Food Hoarding Order gave right of entry to premises where “an offence against the Regulations is being or has been committed.” Under Section 51 of the Defence of the Realm Act [30], the police could enter the house or building to “examine, search and inspect” anything that they suspected contravened DORA Regulations, such as food hoarding, and an officer could seize anything he saw that contravened the regulations without written permission from the Food Controller or a Justice of the Peace. Due to the uncertainty of the many letter writers to the journal, it confirmed that Inspectors appointed by the Food Controller or the Local Food Control Committee had the right of search and could seize articles contravening the Food Hoarding Order without a warrant. It also told its readers that the same rights were conferred on the police; however, they were warned that “violating … an Englishman’s right to the privacy of his hearth and home, is not to be lightly exercised,” and he would be well advised to act with the utmost discretion and with the permission of his superior officer before attempting such a move [31]. This overturned previous advice given by the journal showing the confusion of the role of the police in searching private dwellings: There is, … no general right of search under any Regulation against Food Hoarding hitherto issued. If a Police Constable has information which affords good ground for suspecting that the Regulations of the Food Controller are not observed his duty is to report the facts to his superior officer with a view to applying to a justice for an order authorising him to enter and search the premises. Without such authority a Constable has, in our opinion, no legal right to enter any private premises for the purpose of searching under the Regulations against Food Hoarding. A Food Inspector will take his instruction from the Food Control Authority appointing him, and any right of search will be given to him by this Authority. [32]

The police and food control  253 Although the Food Controller and his inspectors had right of access, the police were told they should be more cautious. They, therefore, mainly relied on tip-­offs from the public, traders and others with close access to the family to report hoarding. A whole system of checking and controlling food supply and hoarding had been set up, involving specially appointed inspectors who could call on police help to bring convictions. Publication of the conviction of high-­profile figures (a best-­selling novelist; an Earl’s daughter; a Member of the House of Commons) brought contravention of the Food Hoarding Order out into the open so that few could escape [33]. By early 1918, food regulations were becoming stricter, with controls over sending and consuming scarce food items which had been sent from one part of Britain, where rationing was not in force, to another area that was rationed. The police were informed of their role in food redistribution through a question in their journal: If the food can be got no offence is committed by those who forward supplies to people residing in a district which is compulsorily rationed. The person who receives the food from non-­controlled areas must not, however, consume more than he is rationed for. Thus, if the head of a family of four, residing in London or the Home Counties, gets 1lb of butter from the country, he is not permitted that week to buy 1lb of butter or margarine in addition. As it is expected that the whole country will soon be rationed in respect to certain commodities, the extent to which this transportation of “scarce” foods can be undertaken will be very considerably curtailed in consequence. [34] This quotation shows the regional variations in food supply as a result of the different times at which local Food Committees were set up and regulation began. The question in the journal was at the height of the food queues, where up to 500,000 people were said to queue for food in the Metropolitan Police District on Saturdays, with daily reports made to the Commissioner of Police so that he could organise police control of the queues to prevent unrest and rioting. By the end of 1917, angry food queues across Britain formed from as early as 5 AM; women in Sheffield threatened to raid the shops if they were not provided with tea and sugar; margarine was also in very short supply in southeast London, with around a third of those queueing turned away empty-­handed. By mid-­January, newspapers reported “wild scenes” around Britain as shops and stalls were rushed by people trying to buy food [35]. Rationing throughout Britain was introduced on 25 February 1918, with dramatic effects on food queuing, which was almost abolished immediately as scarce food items were more evenly distributed throughout the country and people felt more confident of gaining supplies of the scarcest items [36,37]. Lines 3 and 4 of the previous quotation also show how, for the police,

254  The police and food control the head of the household had preferential treatment in the allocation of food above other family members, although by February 1918 registration was for each member of the household. He was portrayed as the person who had the rights over the consumption of food, although it was mainly his wife who queued and prepared the food for everybody. This allocation of food within the family was seen as critical in the working classes, where certain items, such as meat and dairy products, were already severely limited by low budgets, so that the man and other working male members of the household consumed the majority [38]. Food rationing was biting hard, particularly said to be for the head of the household if he had hard manual work to do, such as the policeman and special constables out on the beat in all weathers. They proposed being a special case: The City Special Constabulary intend to send a deputation to Lord Rhondda to urge relaxation in their favour of the new meat ration order. They ask that they shall be allowed an extra ration, pointing out that this is already allowed to the Regular Constabulary. [39] As meat consumption was seen as an essential component of a good diet for a man to build and maintain a healthy body which could work efficiently, being deprived of it was said to lower a man’s strength and physical ability. The request by the Special Constables followed Lord Rhondda’s statement on 25 February 1918 that “persons engaged on heavy manual labour should be granted an additional allowance of meat so soon as supplies permit”; it was part of his original statement on rationing [40]. By 7 April, it was possible to give supplementary rations of bacon, which had become plentiful, to people graded as “persons engaged in bodily labour, in three distinct grades  … ‘D: heavy industrial workers’, ‘E: heavy agricultural workers’, and ‘F: very heavy industrial workers’.” Although this was approved by the Consumers’ Council in March, who had worked closely with the Food Controller, the Trades Union Congress found it unacceptable to discriminate between one class of worker and another, but this view was not held by all labour organisations. In April 1918, the Consumers’ Council reconsidered and objected to the increase not being given to women and girls who were also engaged in hard physical work. Further criticisms said that additional rations broke the raison d’etre of equal treatment between rich and poor, which had received such strong public support for rationing. Criticisms led to a committee of scientific and labour experts meeting between March and July 1918 to classify hundreds of occupations by matching their levels of activity with calories used, to justify supplementary rations. However, from 28 July, bacon and ham from America flooded the market, so removing the need for supplementary rations [41]. By mid-1918, the government was satisfied that labour unrest due to food shortages had subsided; but this was at

The police and food control  255 a huge cost – by the Armistice, 8,800 staff were employed by the Ministry of Food in headquarters and in the local offices [42]. However, by the end of the war, there was general agreement with Lloyd George that successful food administration had been central to winning the war. In concluding the discourse of the police and food control, policemen were central to encouraging adherence, particularly by retailers and the public to food policies by setting aside special police units to study and advise on pricing and distribution. This brought them into closer contact with retailers to enable closer surveillance of their activities. Supervision of food queues to quell potential disquiet and riots also brought the police into closer contact with consumers to build up patterns of people in queues, which enabled central government to build statistics of the population. The police also controlled the population through knowledge of the many food orders which encouraged surveillance by everybody of their neighbours so that they could tip off the police if regulations were infringed. Police employment within local authorities gave them access to assist Food Inspectors with the many arrests and prosecutions. The discourse of food control saw the government take over distribution and supply of scarce foodstuffs, which was said, from 1917 onwards, to be central to winning the war. It also showed the central role of the police on the home front in this vital area.

References 1 Barnett, L. M. (1985) British Food Policy during the First World War. Boston: George Allen and Unwin. 2 TNA MAF 60/236 M.G.1. Ministry of Food. Establishment of a Local Food Control Committee. August 1917. Memorandum to local authorities in England, Wales and Scotland. 3 Barnett, L. M. (1985) op. cit, p. 127. 4 TNA MAF 60/60. Compulsory Rationing and Distribution of Essential Foods. Memorandum by Food Controller. 9 November 1917. 5 Barnett, L. M. (1985) shows how, by the end of the war, 26,000 men and women were involved in food administration, including central, regional and local employees on food committees. 6 TNA MAF 60/233. 7 The Police Review, Police Law and Practice. Questions and Answers. 13801 Ministry of Food Orders – Powers of Police. 10 August 1917, p. 250. 8 Defence of the Realm Manual, 5th edition. Revised to 28 February 1918. HMSO. 9 Defence of the Realm Manual, 5th edition, op. cit. 10 Beveridge, W. H. (1928) British Food Control. London: Humphrey Milford, Oxford University Press. The Waste of Foodstuffs Order was dated 21 February 1918. The National Food Journal published fines for not eating bread or giving it to pet animals. 11 Beveridge, W. H. (1928) ibid, p. 239. 12 Barnett, L. M. (1985) op. cit, p. 115. 13 The Police Review, Police Law and Practice. Questions and Answers. 13801 Ministry of Food Orders – Powers of Police. 10 August 1917, p. 250. 14 Beveridge, W. H. (1928) op. cit, pp. 163–164. 15 Barnett, L. M. (1985) op. cit, p. 136.

256  The police and food control 16 Beveridge, W. H. (1928) op. cit. 17 Beveridge, W. H. (1928) op. cit. 18 Braybon, G. & Summerfield, P. (1987) Out of the Cage: Women’s Experiences in Two World Wars. London: Pandora. 19 TNA MAF 60/60. ibid. 20 Beveridge, W. H. (1928) op. cit. The maximum was fixed at 4 ounces per person per week of margarine or butter and 1 ½ ounces of tea. These amounts were fixed as a result of scientific investigation, to claim validity and stretched control of the diet of the population into the scientific and medical community. Results categorised the population by either “Men on bodily work” or “The rest of the population” with special rations according to lists of “specific ailments” [TNA MAF 60/221]. Meat was also rationed from 19 February 1918, after shortages suddenly developed in the previous month. 21 The Food Controller did not see rationing as a way of restricting food consumption but of ensuring that supplies of scarce items reached those who needed it, up to the maximum. 22 TNA MAF 60/240 has a series of leaflets and forms for registration by individuals and retailers. 23 The Police Review, Police and Food Control. Exeter’s Lead to the Country. 19 October 1917, p. 334. 24 The Police Review, 5 October 1917, p. 315. 25 The Police Review, The Police and Food Control. 26 October 1917, p. 347. 26 See CAB 23/2/22 and TNA MAF 60/196. 27 House of Commons Debates. 28 March 1917, vol 92, cc410-1. 28 Barnett, L. M. (1985) op. cit, p. 142. 29 Beveridge, W. H. (1928) op. cit. House of Commons Debates. 14 February 1918, vol 103, cc280. 30 Defence of the Realm Manual, 5th edition. Revised to 28 February 1918. HMSO, p. 164. 31 The Police Review, Police Law and Practice. Questions and Answers. 13872. Food Hoarding – Police Right of Search. 28 March 1918, p. 98. 32 The Police Review, Food Control. Right of Search. 15 March 1918, p. 82. 33 Beveridge, W. H. (1928) op. cit. 34 The Police Review, Questions and Answers. Food Control. 22 February 1918, p. 74. 35 Barnett, L. M. (1985) op. cit, pp. 141–142. 36 Beveridge, W. H. (1928) op. cit. 37 The Times, Dwindling Queues. 31 December 1917: 3. 38 Roberts, R. (1971) The Classic Slum: Salford Life in the First Quarter of the Century. Manchester: Manchester University Press. 39 The Police Review, News of “Specials” in Brief. 12 April 1918, p. 123. 40 TNA MAF 60/60. op. cit. 41 Beveridge, W. H. (1928) op. cit. 42 Beveridge, W. H. (1928) op. cit.

14 The corrupting effects of the cinema

The discourse of the corrupting effects of the cinema shows the massive increase in the numbers of cinemas across Britain before the war, which was the new form of mass public entertainment. By 1916, there were estimated to be 3,500 cinemas, many built near to working class areas, with over 20 million attendances per week. The popularity of the cinema for the masses, partly because it was cheap entertainment, led to it being described as the most universally accepted modern amusement [1], and also led to the portrayal of worries about its influence on the working classes, with the upper classes saying it showed mainly trivial and some harmful films which corrupted the young and was uneducative, carefree and thoughtless while failing to offer an example of good behaviour [2]. The rise of worries about the effects of the cinema stretched back to around 1908 when cinemas began to mushroom, with press criticisms and private protests to the Home Office about the contents of some of the films. In 1909, the Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police urged the Home Office to control the cinema as the fire precautions for showing the highly flammable celluloid films were inadequate and the contents of many films glorified crime [3]. The November 1909 Cinematograph Act [4] gave protection from fire by films shown in public buildings and also allowed local authorities to attach conditions to granting a license. But the suspicion was that it was really intended to censor films, anathema to the film producers, distributors and cinema owners. Home Secretary Herbert Samuel confirmed that such a voluntary censorship was agreed in 1909, suggesting the Home Office would ask local authorities to draw up regulations, but no further action was taken [5]. To show a film in public, a license had to be granted under the 1909 Act by application to the local authority and to the police who would inspect the building and keep lists of the licenses and licensees; they could also visit the cinema if a complaint was received to assess whether the film infringed any laws. However, from 1910, it was noted that local authorities started to grant licenses on the basis of film contents, which when challenged in the courts often led to upholding the local authorities’ decisions. Continual pressure by the local authorities on the

258  The corrupting effects of the cinema film industry by 1912 led them to fear central government censorship [6]. To forestall this, the film industry sent a deputation to Home ­S ecretary Reginald ­McKenna to establish the British Board of Film Censors (BBFC), set up in November 1912, but without direct government control; it was funded by the film industry. But, the statutory powers to show films remained with the local authorities, who could ignore the judgements of the BBFC; some local authorities also began to delegate their powers to grant a license to the judiciary [7]. By 1915, out of the several hundred local authorities able to grant licenses to cinemas, only 35 had announced their support for the BBFC’s decisions, many having developed much stricter rules of censorship to ban films given BBFC approval. But some additional central censorship was in place, as close working between the Home Office and, during the war, the War Office with the BBFC led to changes in the contents of some films and to banning others that disparaged nations who had become war allies. But by 1915, both the local authorities and the Home Office agreed that the BBFC’s standards were not stringent enough, particularly in relation to children’s attendance at the cinema. A year later, the local authorities found a powerful ally in Herbert S ­ amuel, then Home Secretary, to develop a system of censorship but with proposals that it operated under central government control, which was contrary to many of the local authorities wishes to retain their powers to refuse certain films being shown and also to ban some of the accompanying posters advertising the films [8]. The Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police confirmed that he had already appointed a children’s attendant to care for unaccompanied children and to prevent them from being molested in the auditorium. He also wished to see a more general condition in granting a license “That no films be displayed which are likely to be subversive of public morality” and that licenses should be refused if films were shown which had a “demoralising or injurious influence on children” [9]. With the large increase in juvenile crime nationally seen in 1916 (see Chapter 12), a search for the reasons was inevitable, so that youth could be led into good ways consistent with becoming the good citizen of the future and prevented from bad experiences. This raised questions in the House of Commons about the influence of the cinema: Mr King (L), Somerset, N. asked the secretary of State for the Home Department whether there has recently been a large increase in juvenile crime, if so, whether his official information shows that this increase is in any measure attributable to the films exhibited in the picture theatres; and if so, whether the Government propose to take any steps to establish a censorship of such films. Mr Herbert Samuel: From information obtained from the principal towns it appears that there has been a considerable increase in juvenile offences during the past year, and it is generally believed that one of

The corrupting effects of the cinema   259 the causes is to be found in the character of some of the films shown in cinematography theatres. [10] As the Home Secretary said, the increase in juvenile crime is generally believed to be partly caused by the films, showing a national discourse of worry about the influence of this new media. The collection of statistics from Chief Constables in 18 Constabularies around England and Wales in early 1916 confirmed the national increase in the convictions of youth. He held a conference with members of the cinematograph industry, the Inspector of Constabulary and the Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police with invited representatives of local councils, magistrates and the police, from 20 major towns and cities in England and Wales to “have your views on the general question of the control of cinematograph exhibitions with respect to the character of the films that are produced.” He portrayed the opinion of a number of Chief Constables “with almost complete unanimity” that the increase in juvenile crime was due to d ­ emoralising films, so that current censorship arrangements were inadequate. Although local authorities issued licenses for cinemas to show films, they each had their own board of censors to decide which films were shown in their locality, so that there was no uniformity across ­Britain and people could travel from one local authority area to another to see banned films [11]. During 1916, a further debate in Newcastle between the local authority, the police and magistrates from around Britain reflected this national worry about how to contain the contents of films to protect youth and children from their bad influences. The Lord Mayor said the cinema was here to stay and so they had to deal with its effects: all they could hope to secure was such a censorship of films as would discourage glorification of vice or throw any glamour around the criminal. [12] The police from St Helens, Bristol and Manchester agreed that the increase in juvenile crime was partly due to some of the films shown in the cinema. In Bristol, they had met with cinema owners and lessees and had agreed that while the educational nature of most of the films was a good thing, increased censorship was needed. All said the contents of some of the films, which glamourised crimes and criminal behaviour, was attractive to the young and encouraged them to carry out criminal acts. While the father was away and the mother failed to supervise the children and youth properly, they were free to see any films with no parental control of what they saw. In Bristol, the Chief Constable reported that juvenile offences said to be due to the films gave women police opportunities to inquire into the circumstances

260  The corrupting effects of the cinema of the children by visiting their homes following juvenile criminal acts; he said this had helped the police and the women were of great service. The conference agreed that something had to be done and passed a resolution to be submitted to central government: That this conference is of the opinion that the establishment of a central Government censor of cinematograph films is essential, and will conduce to the reduction of juvenile crime in the country. [13] This strongly worded statement from police, legal and local authority representatives appealed to central government to act in the nation’s best interests to safeguard the moral health of the next generation. This conference was held a month after the London conference set up by Herbert Samuel with the intention to reorganise the BBFC under central government control. It was also at a time when legal proceedings were being taken against a number of Chief Constables who were trying to ban certain films. However, Samuel’s plan met serious opposition not only from the film industry, but also from many local authorities who objected to the surrender of their censorship powers, while others only wanted the restriction of children to cinemas. Samuel planned to reform the BBFC so that members would have no connection with the film industry. In addition, there would be an advisory committee appointed by the Home Secretary made up of local authority representatives, prominent public figures, authors of standing and only one representative of the film industry – at least one member would be a woman. But the plan was not followed up after the fall of the Asquith government. The new Home Secretary George Cave abandoned the reforms. However, the lack of reform did not prevent police action. Throughout 1916, with the continued rise of worries about the effects of the cinema, particularly on the young, that the films inflamed their imaginations and incited them to commit crime, the police were taught through their journal to know their rights in relation to the child viewers in the cinema: Name the requirements under the Children Act for the safety of children at entertainments? State the power of the police. [14] Some policemen would also visit cinemas daily to check the films were not infringing the laws of indecency or morality. By the end of 1916, they were also taught about procedures in granting a cinema license: You receive notice of an intended application for a new license under the Cinematograph Act 1909. Report what steps you would take in the

The corrupting effects of the cinema   261 matter, and also under what conditions a cinematograph exhibition can be given a license. [15] This police education, particularly in relation to children and youth, kept the dangers of the cinema firmly in the discourse of police work. With a change of government in early 1917, Home Secretary George Cave approved the National Council of Public Morals Commission of Enquiry, chaired by the Bishop of Birmingham, which began its work at once. The Commission was triggered by a letter from the Cinematograph Trade Council asking for an independent enquiry into the physical, social, moral and educational influence of the cinema, with special reference to young people. The Commission also investigated the “nature and extent of the complaints” of films. They said cinemas were now available in every town and village across Britain for public amusement and entertainment and were very popular across classes and therefore a significant influence on the nation. An example of the spread of the cinema was shown in the evidence given to the Commission by the Chief Constable of Edinburgh, who said that for a population of 330,000 there were 24 cinemas with a seating capacity of around 17,000 [16]. He gave evidence on 12 March 1917 and said that among the cinema’s good influences was the reduction of intemperance and also keeping children off the streets. From the few complaints he had received, it suggested that the contents of some of the films were indecent by suggesting immorality. However, when the police investigated they found the named films were not indecent representations and so from a legal perspective they could take no action as there was no infringement of the law. However, he was worried that some films did contain suggestions of immorality which could affect the girls and youths under 18 years of age and he would not have allowed his own daughter to attend the named film. He had heard that immorality could take place within the darkened auditorium but had received no complaints about this; the Chief Constables of Aberdeen and Dundee concurred that they would like to see increased levels of lighting to prevent indecency. He had also heard that children stole in order to pay for cinema entrance [17], but he had not come across one instance of this in the police courts. He said that in several recent cases of juveniles coming before the courts for housebreaking, it was said that film scenes of burglary and criminals at work were inciting the boys to copy the crimes, as they were adventurous by nature and could emulate such behaviour. But he disagreed saying he had asked the boys and found no truth in these allegations; they admitted their crimes were pure mischief. The Chief Constable further demonstrated his point by showing statistics for juvenile crime in Edinburgh since 1912, when the cinema first became popular; there was a large increase in juvenile crime only since 1914, portraying that the war influence, not the cinema, was the cause [18].

262  The corrupting effects of the cinema However, in some towns, such as Wolverhampton, the police were sufficiently concerned at the contents of some of the films as well as the darkened cinema auditorium where immorality was said to be possible, to give the surveillance of cinemas to the women police and patrols: With the consent of the Watch Committee, the Chief Constable has made arrangements for those members of the W.V.R. to patrol most parts of the town in pairs. They will visit picture houses in the interests of girls and young children. [19] This concern did not diminish, as it was followed by publication in The Police Review in 1918 of the Chief Constable’s advice to women police: Inspections should be made at cinemas, particularly at matinees, to see that every care is taken for the welfare of youthful patrons in the production of wholesome films. Special supervision should be given to better class houses so as to prevent prostitutes using them as a rendezvous, notably where refreshment facilities are afforded. [20] This division of cinemas into good and poor showed that the poor quality cinemas were said by the police to be another place where prostitutes hung out. In the moral panic of sexual immorality, prostitutes were seen everywhere that was said to be bad (see Chapter 9). Where children were concerned, this was a role for the women police. The contents of films shown to youth and children particularly at afternoon performances was often seen as a bad influence on them and the women police should monitor their attendance at such films. Also, whereas cinemas and other establishments with a bad reputation were known to be a place where prostitutes plied their trade, they should be isolated in these establishments which were often a lost cause and totally unsuitable for children and youth who should be kept well away from them. The better class houses should not allow prostitutes to use them and the women police should enforce this for the sake of the moral health of the youth and children. Other locations continued into early 1918 to ask the Home Office for guidance. Maesteg Urban District Council in Glamorgan was sent the Model Conditions for granting a cinema license saying that the Home Secretary had no authority to decide whether conditions for particular locations were “proper to be imposed or not,” passing the decision back to the District Council [21]. But this hands-off approach by government was not always appreciated by the cinema owners and lessees, as surveillance in some locations by policemen was seen to be excessive. The police in England and Wales, although supporting the cinema as a place of recreation for children and

The corrupting effects of the cinema   263 juveniles, continued to portray it as creating problems for both. For juveniles, although it kept them from hooliganism and the attractions of the public house and despite the evidence of the Chief Constable of Edinburgh to the Commission of Enquiry, The Police Review continued to associate juvenile crime with films shown in the cinema up to the end of 1917: the Commission is obliged to conclude that there is a connection between the cinema and juvenile crime, and that the scenes depicted in the screens of the cheaper kind of picture-houses are, by imitation a direct incitement to juvenile crime. (italics supplied) The journal reported that the Commission had confirmed the police view of the link between films shown in the cheaper kinds of cinemas and juvenile crime, but to a limited extent only, while many policemen continued to see the cinema as a cause of juvenile delinquency. Also, for children, the cinema had both a bad and mischievous moral influence, which the police had suspected for some time. They agreed with the Commission report that auditoriums needed to have screened lighting which should be sufficient so that “no objectionable practices shall be possible in the auditorium” and special attendants should be present to look after the children. They also saw physical problems for the children of eye strain by “the necessity of constantly watching a brilliantly illuminated object from a dark, or nearly dark, place” [22]. Letters to their journal agreed with the sentiments expressed, particularly that children should be taken to afternoon performances, rather than late at night when they should be at home and in bed! [23]. But despite its dubious start and without central government control, during the war the BBFC were seen as the most important film censorship body, which overcame the difficulties with most of the local authorities who came to accept that a BBFC certificate gave sufficient assurance that a film was suitable for public exhibition [24]. In conclusion, the national worry, particularly by the influential upper classes, some members of parliament, the local authorities and the police, about the effects of some films shown in the cinema escalated during 1916. It was said that scenes of crimes influenced youth to commit these crimes and was a reason for the increase in juvenile crime, as well as scenes and posters showing immorality, which corrupted the young. The police and local authorities in England and Wales continued throughout the war to try to control which films were shown, while the police in Scotland said the films did not corrupt the young, they were merely mischievous, and this was the reason for the increase in juvenile crime. Indeed, the cinema was seen as a positive influence by keeping patrons away from the public house. However, throughout Britain there was a move for better conditions in the auditoriums, such as increased shaded lighting to prevent immorality and attendants to care for and protect the children.

264  The corrupting effects of the cinema

References 1 Beaven, B. (2005) Leisure, Citizenship and Working-Class Men in Britain, 1850– 1945. Manchester: Manchester University Press. 2 Hendrick, H. (1990) Images of Youth: Age, Class, and the Male Youth Problem, 1880–1920. Oxford: Clarendon Press. 3 TNA HO 45/10551/163175/2, 4 & 7. 4 Cinematograph Act 1909. [9 Edw. 7. Ch. 30.]. 5 TNA HO 45/10812/312397. Notes of a Conference on cinematograph films, held at the Home Office on Friday 14 April 1916. 6 Robertson, J. C. (1989) The Hidden Cinema: British film censorship in action, 1913–1972. London: Routledge. 7 The Times, 20 April 1916; The Times, 26 July 1916; The Daily Telegraph, 26 July 1916. 8 Robertson, J. C. (1985) The British Board of Film Censors: Film Censorship in Britain 1896–1950. London: Croom Helm. TNA HO 45/10812/312397, op. cit. 9 TNA Mepol. 2/1696 107742/2. Objectionable films at cinemas. Letter from New Scotland Yard dated 22 May 1916. 10 The Police Review, House of Commons. 4 May, Juvenile Crime (Increase). 5 May 1916, p. 217. 11 TNA HO 45/10812/312397. Notes of Conference on Cinematograph Films held at the Home Office Friday, 14 April 1916. 12 The Police Review, Censorship of Films. 19 May 1916, pp. 231–232. 13 The Police Review, Censorship of Films, ibid. 14 The Police Review, Examination Questions. 19 May 1916, p. 221. 15 The Police Review, Examination Questions. 1 December 1916, p. 475. 16 Freeman, A. (1917) The Cinema: Its Present Position and Future Possibilities. London: Williams and Norgate. 17 Claims that the cinema encouraged children to steal in order to gain the price of admission was proposed by the Fabian Socialist Arnold Freeman in his influential text Boy Life and Labour: The manufacture of inefficiency, published in 1914. 18 The Cinema: Its Present Position and Future Possibilities (1917), Ibid. Statement of Mr Roderick Ross M.V.O. Chief Constable of Edinburgh, pp. 175–183. 19 The Police Review, Volunteer Women Police Wolverhampton. 13 July 1917, p. 222. 20 The Police Review, The Duties of Women Police. An Address by the Chief Constable of Wolverhampton. 5 July 1918, p. 214. 21 TNA HO 45/10811. Cinematograph Licenses: Model Conditions. 22 The Police Review, The Cinema Commission of Enquiry. 26 October 1917, p. 341. 23 The Police Review, Letters to the Editor. Cinema Commission of Inquiry. 9 November 1917, p. 355. 24 Robertson, J. C. (1985) op. cit, pp. 12–18. TNA HO 45/10812/312397. op. cit.

15 Conclusions to Policing the Home Front 1914–1918

This book uses as its primary source text from the weekly popular journal The Police Review, which was widely read by policemen on the beat. It shows their lives and work in two distinct roles in the First World War: (1) with the population they policed, such as in the surveillance of wives in receipt of the war separation allowance, sexual morality, food control and youth crime, and (2) their own position within the different police forces in Britain showing their conditions of service during wartime and the lives this gave their families as seen in living costs, pensions and conscription. It also shows the national structures which controlled police work, such as conscription into the army and the way the police service responded to these continuing calls by government. However, surveillance of the policeman by police forces and local authorities did not always make the policemen on the beat into docile bodies; far from it, as the police strike and unrest of 1918 shows. Analysing text from popular journals allows the reader to see the daily detail of how the lives of good people were portrayed and how they were encouraged into and in turn promoted the moral values of the day. Initial analysis of The Police Review showed that different discourses emerged, some later in the war than others and some with long histories, such as the control of drunkenness, which became refocused as national efficiency in order to win the war. All the discourses changed dramatically during the war, as a result of struggle and conflict, in a highly changeable society with increasing centralised control. The initial analysis of these discourses by looking for conflict and struggle creates a sense of real life as it was lived in the daily life of the policeman and his family. From an analysis of these struggles, a wider understanding of the issues has been built up by searching for secondary sources. Both the primary and secondary sources together show how the police sought to control the British Home Front during the First World War by adhering to the law and the resistance they met in trying to do so. It also shows how the local and national structures controlled police work and within which the policeman on the beat worked, along with the changes as a result of popular resistance to government policies, for example, in the discourse of the control of drunkenness. In this discourse, resistance to punishment shows the complex social mechanisms in operation which produce positive results by

266  Conclusions to Policing the Home Front 1914–1918 the investigations of facilities for workers to have access to food in the factories; this created knowledge, which led to the portrayal that the government needed to set up works canteens across Britain. Making this knowledge widely known would allow workers to monitor each other’s food intake during rest periods, as well as government surveillance of the amount of food bought and consumed. However, punishment also has negative or repressive effects, seen in this book as police forces recommending increased prison sentences for those they identified as habitual drunkards. Changes were often drastic in the battle of illegalities which are created and challenged. This book shows these battles in the discourses so that the state controlled many of the changing needs of the population at home while also attempting to provide increasing numbers of army recruits to win the war. Although the police had clear ideas of their role – that it was to prevent crime and to treat criminals – they recognised that some activity in the population, such as the behaviour of young women and girls with soldiers, needed to be contained. They gave this role to women associated with the police, as they said this was not a police responsibility. However, by the end of the war, despite the level of surveillance of women police and patrols, venereal disease had spread widely into the community, so that the role of these women was seen to have failed. Not only the prostitutes, not always known to the police, but also the amateur girls had evaded the gaze and were far from docile bodies. Only incarcerating them would allow sufficient surveillance. But women’s organisations protested vehemently at this, leaving the government to offer platitudes on the issue. It was only the army who were able to control the soldiers and sailors by incarceration in hospital for treatment. Also seen is the police using corporal punishment with juveniles, rather than arresting them, showing that change in society about the use of probation was only partially implemented by some groups, such as social workers. Therefore, with youth, the police preferred traditional methods, rather than surveillance, as they said it gave examples to others. This book shows the police themselves resisting local authority and national government on two distinct occasions: (1) following the uproar about the war separation allowance, they later politely declined to hand letters to wives who were said to be misbehaving, and (2) when asked to segregate women said to be sexually immoral from soldiers who came from the Dominions to help the war effort; the police declined to arrest them saying it was not possible to tell from the look of a woman’s body and her behaviour who was infected and who was not. These examples reinforce the view of the police as exercising autonomy; they were not merely an arm of the state. Despite the strongly held discourses of patriarchy and sexual morality held within the police force, when challenged by social protests the police backed off, saying they were unwilling or unable to deal with the issues. Their need for public approval for their work was more important to them than government demands. However, government power over the population by knowing them in detail did not always result in resistance. Following conscription in 1916 and

Conclusions to Policing the Home Front 1914–1918  267 the knowledge built up of all men between 18 and 45 through medical examination resulting in their classification into levels of fitness, each man’s physical fitness became visible to everyone he cared to tell and to the army and the Home Office. But this did not create discipline on the bodies of those who were judged to have a low score, nor did it create resistance by them to being categorised, as by 1916 most did not wish to be recruited to fight. Indeed, this was the reason for conscription. Therefore, a low classification was an advantage, as these individuals were of no interest to the army and so were unlikely to be called up. They were released from the requirement to fight. A low classification legitimised their staying at home, so they were less likely to be criticised by family, friends and neighbours – they had a legitimate excuse and documents to prove it! So in this instance, Foucault’s claims of “where there is power, there is resistance” [1] does not apply. It was not until mid-1918 when volunteering for service at home became mandatory that these individuals underwent training and enforced labour under the auspices of the army at home. I argue in this book that social class is reflected in most of the discourses that emerged, both in the way the police acted towards the public on the home front and also in the way they see themselves as aligned with middle-­ class values. The use of Foucauldian analysis has been criticised by Driver, as the tactics of struggle do not necessarily reflect the wider social context in which they occur, as does Marxist analysis of social class [2]. Although sociological theories of social class do not form a discourse in this book, they imbue many of the police discourses, such as in youth crime, which the police see as being more often and likely committed by those from poor families than those from the middle or upper classes. Social class is, therefore, important for the police and they align themselves with the middle or upper classes with increased surveillance of poor neighbourhoods, as seen in philanthropy, although there is no specific discourse of social class in its own right. Furthermore, the police are encouraged by the organisation of policing to see themselves as apart from the lower classes by adopting middle-­class moral values. In conclusion, despite all the changes and challenges in the police service during the war, they were mainly able to continue to gain public and government support for their work. Indeed, their work increased and diversified in many different ways, such as in the control of food. In spite of conflicts between policemen themselves and with those in control of the police service, policing was able to maintain and increase its role in Britain until after the end of the First World War.

References 1 Foucault, M. (1979) The History of Sexuality, An Introduction, Vol 1. London: Allen Lane and Penguin Press. 2 Driver, F. (1985) ‘Power, Space and the Body: A Critical Assessment of Foucault’s Discipline and Punish.’ Environment and Planning D: Society and Space 3, 425–446.

Appendix

The work of Michel Foucault (1926–1984)

The work of Michel Foucault became very popular in Britain and internationally around the late 1990s. Using documentary material, he shows how power is created and circulates in society. He advocated we examine the details and strategies of particular struggles which surround people’s everyday lives [1]. While he rejected traditional history with its search for the origin, I make no attempt to search for the origin, but I have found it useful to look for the large numbers of instances of events. I analyse these everyday events in the lives of the ordinary policeman and his family, in the sequence in which they occur: … the objects of … analysis are not, as in the case of traditional history, ‘the noblest periods, the highest forms, the most abstract ideas, the purest individualities’, but neglected, ‘lower’ or more common forms of existence and knowledge. [2] The statements, questions, letters, etc. made by ordinary policemen in The Police Review about their struggles and conflicts, which were often represented as being ignored or said by higher level officials to be irrelevant, are the subject of Foucault’s genealogical knowledge and become important sources about policing in Britain during the First World War. This is a history of the present with its forms of rationality and techniques of power, so that we can develop an understanding of the policeman and his work at a crucial time in British history when his struggles and conflicts occurred. Examining The Police Review allows a number of similar statements to emerge. These are the discourses presented in this book in the individual chapters: discourse refers to a group of statements identified as belonging to a single discursive formation … It reveals that within a discourse reference is being made to the same thing within the same conceptual field, at the same level. [3]

270  Appendix The object of the analysis of the discourses is developed in Foucault’s archaeology: to deal with a group of … performances at the level of the statements and of the form of positivity that characterises them; or, more briefly, it is to define the type of positivity of a discourse. [4] The positivity of a discourse refers to the unity of a group of statements which goes beyond the written word and exists through time and is independent of scientific validity. In this group or system of statements, Foucault refers to “the general system of the formation and transformation of statements” through time and in a particular society. The production of a discourse is governed by prohibited words and the will to truth [5]. He considers how the statement functions and the sets of rules that define when and how it is spoken and its limits and forms. The object of analysis is to show what may be spoken of in a discourse: what statements survive, disappear, get re-used, repressed or censured; which terms are recognised as valid, questionable, invalid; what relations exist between “the system of present statements” and those of the past, or between the discourses of “native” and foreign cultures; and what individuals, groups, or classes have access to particular kinds of discourse. The purpose of this analysis is to show the conditions of the existence of a discourse and how it is used, in an attempt to provide a different history of what people have said [6]. Within this is the analysis of contradictions and the mapping of transformations and how it is possible for the succession of discourses to occur and at what level succession occurs. This type of analysis puts discontinuities and the emergence of new forms of discourse in the foreground – attempting to “establish the system of transformations that constitute ‘change’” [7] while also showing the continuing discourses. Furthermore, it shows the diversity of discourses: the domain of existence and functioning of a discursive practice …. to discover that whole domain of institutions, economic processes, and social relations on which a discursive formation can be articulated … to uncover … the particular level in which history can give place to definite types of discourse which have their own type of historicity. [8] Foucault also refers to non-discursive relations and practices; these are to be found in the institutions, in social and economic processes and in behaviour patterns. The objects of discourses are formed at three levels:

Appendix  271 1 Relations independent of discourse – in institutions, social relationships and political institutions; 2 Relations within the discourse itself – for example, relations between women police or patrols and the girls involved in “khaki fever”; 3 Discursive relations, which sustain and develop the objects of a discourse. What should be done is to reveal “these specific discursive relations (3. above), and their interplay with the other two kinds” (1. and 2. above) [9]. However, Foucault gives scant attention to how this should be achieved in The Archaeology of Knowledge; it is developed in his later work on genealogical analysis, particularly in Discipline and Punish and The History of Sexuality, where he shows the complex links between discursive and non-discursive practices which are not attributed to any person, they are the will to knowledge. Genealogical analysis shows how the historical beginnings of a discourse are in lowly and more common forms of existence, such as the body, and are often as a result of the proliferation of errors [10] to reveal the multiple events that lie behind any discourse’s historical beginnings in the: accidents, the minute deviations … the errors, the false appraisals, and the faulty calculations that gave birth to those things that continue to exist and have value for us” “it disturbs what was previously considered immobile; it fragments what was thought unified; it shows the heterogeneity of what was imagined consistent with itself. [11] Genealogical analysis shows that nothing is stable; even our bodies are subject to the hazardous play of dominations, the struggle between forces, conflicts and confrontations, so that the emergence of a discourse is the effects of the play of dominations. Humanity is not seen to have progressed from war or combat to a more humane system, change is merely from one form of domination to another, there are no constants, only discontinuity. Domination gives rise to resistance, so that those who contest and struggle over the system of rules that govern the power relations: are capable of seizing … (the) rules, to … invert their meaning, and redirect them against those who had initially imposed them. [12] Resistance is the result of power relations – where there is power there is resistance – it is present everywhere where power exists; power depends on multiple points of resistance, not a single instance such as a rebellion [13]. Foucault sees a society without relations of power and forms of resistance and struggle as inconceivable. To understand relations of power it is better to analyse resistance and struggle which can be seen as opposing the

272  Appendix techniques of power that pervade everyday life by categorising individuals, showing their individuality and attaching them to their identity; individuals are constituted as subjects as: subject to someone else by control and dependence, and tied to … their own identity by a conscience or self-knowledge. [14] We need to focus on the multiple and diverse forms of power, the ways it is exercised, the points of resistance and the effects of power. The job of genealogy is to record the system of rules of a discourse and their transformations as a series of interpretations that show the development of humanity. This shows the dispersion, disparity and difference between the play of dominations in how people govern each other in the production of truth: to establish what is true or false. It deals with qualities and properties previously ignored by history, such as the body, feelings and morality, and grounds them in time and place to show the multiple processes, relations and factors that constitute an event. Indeed, even the human body is subject to historical transformation to be “broken down by the rhythms of work, rest, and holidays; … poisoned by food or values, through eating habits or moral laws” [15]. Foucault shows how the imposition of timetables for activities, such as the time of rising, personal hygiene, work, meals, education, recreation, etc. and the systems of rules and regulations that govern these activities create productive docile bodies that are politically and economically useful. Transgression from the rules and timetables are punished by increased and continual reinforcement. In Discipline and Punish, Foucault develops the techniques resulting from the architecture of buildings that enable surveillance and the gaze on the body; in particular, he shows how the non-discursive practices in the social institution of the prison form complex relations between the discursive and non-discursive practices to make up the relationships between power, knowledge and the body. Here, the body is the object of the disciplinary gaze which produces the technologies of “power and knowledge relations that invest human bodies and subjugate them by turning them into objects of knowledge” [16]. The system of surveillance, normalising judgements and examination of the body and the coercions that went with it made an efficient and controlled useful body, for example, individual movements, gestures and the body’s capacity were subjected to power to produce economy, efficiency and organised movements; uninterrupted supervision of this level of detail ensured the human body was trained and disciplined. General visibility was necessary to know and so to alter people. Normalising judgements enforced the disciplinary system of power to produce conformity: The workshop, the school, the army were subject to a whole micro-­ penalty of time (lateness, absences, interruptions of tasks), of activity

Appendix  273 (inattention, negligence, lack of zeal), of behaviour (impoliteness, disobedience), of speech (idle chatter, insolence), of the body (“incorrect” attitudes, irregular gestures, lack of cleanliness), of sexuality (impurity, indecency). [17] Foucault shows how the emergence of these new technologies of power, discipline and the interrelated new forms of knowledge involved the human sciences such as psychology, criminology and medicine to constitute the human body as both subject and object. He shows that the relationship between the body, power and knowledge enables the exercise of the technologies of power over the body which allows humans to be classified, for example, as criminal, as delinquent or as a good person. They can then be isolated – criminals to prison; conscripted soldiers into barracks; workers into factories; children into schools. For Foucault, power is always present and we should: investigate the limits imposed on the exercise of power – the relays through which it operates and the extent of its influence on the often insignificant aspects of the hierarchy and the forms of control, surveillance, prohibition, and constraint. … No one, strictly speaking, has an official right to power; and yet it is always exerted in a particular direction, with some people on one side and some on the other. [18] A further instrument of discipline on the body is the examination, which combines both observation and normalising judgements. Through the examination, individuals are classified and judged. This book shows men between certain ages being medically examined to assess their fitness to fight in the war; as a result, they were given a classification which had consequences for their liability to be conscripted into the army. The effects of the examination for Foucault are: a The transformation of visibility of the individual into a form of power; b The development and maintenance of files, documents and records, which are organised into general registers that can describe and analyse groups with commonly occurring attributes to describe differences in the population; and c The constitution of individuals as cases and objects of knowledge. Therefore, examination and surveillance of the individual which generates knowledge about them also enables their attributes to be combined to form knowledge of populations. In The History of Sexuality, Foucault argues that the most significant development of the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries was increasing state involvement and the scientific study

274  Appendix of populations. This involved statistical analysis of economic, welfare, health, moral and political problems and allows government to develop programmes for population control. A further shift in power relationships in The History of Sexuality develops the technologies of the self which enable the individuals to turn themselves into a subject through techniques of interpretation. In this technology, institutions encourage individuals to talk about themselves and to bear their souls as therapy. He likens this to the confessional, where subjects become conscious of themselves as subjects to form and transform themselves, to modify themselves, their thoughts, conduct and bodies through what they say about themselves [19]. As the subject, human beings govern themselves and others by establishing regimes of truth which constitute the rules and procedures for doing things. This subjectivity or pastoral power is found in the way in which many public and private structures and institutions work, in its agents and officials, who ask more and more probing questions to establish the truth of the individual. It assumes that the questioner has privileged access to the interpretation and explanation of the individual’s speech. The truth is to govern the health, well-being, security and protection of individuals. But what we take as truth or falsehood, and the distinction between them is within a political field, developed through struggle and domination. Foucault’s approach is that Knowledge is inextricably entwined with relations of power and advances in knowledge are associated with advances in developments in the exercise of power. Thus for Foucault there is no disinterested knowledge; knowledge is power and mutually and inextricably interdependent. A site where knowledge is exercised is also a place at which knowledge is produced. [20] As Foucault says: “there is no power relation without the correlative constitution of a field of knowledge, nor any knowledge that does not presuppose and constitute at the same time power relations” [21]. It is power-knowledge along with the struggles of which it is made up that determine the forms and possible domains of knowledge. Analysis needs to focus on the way things are done at the level of the continuous and uninterrupted processes which subject our bodies, govern our gestures, dictate our behaviours, etc. [22]. It will show how power circulates throughout the social body, organised through networks in which nobody can escape. It should start with the analysis at the micro-level to show how techniques and tactics of power operate in a capillary fashion from below; from there, it is possible to see how these have been used, transformed and extended to more general and global systems of power that are economically and politically useful. From this, the sites where knowledge is formed will be seen and the instruments are used to accumulate knowledge, such

Appendix  275 as observation and systems of surveillance, registration, investigation, examination and research. In this book, we see the example of the characteristics of a youthful offender which need to be known before he is brought to court – his way of life, his biography, his nature, morals and attitudes as well as the surroundings in which he lives, his family life and his home; this can be constructed independently from the crime he has committed. It allows the use of psychological principles to judge him as good/bad, normal/ abnormal, evil/capable of return to normal life, etc. This knowledge of the individual is put alongside his crime to establish a common set of norms that form the discourse of criminology. Knowledge of individuals is useful in itself, as well as being used for knowing how to transform them; attempts to transform individuals also further develops knowledge of them “the logic is perfectly clear, the aims decipherable, and yet it is often the case that no one is there to have invented them” [23].

References 1 Foucault, M. (1980) In Gordon, C. (ed.), Power/Knowledge: Selected Interviews and Other Writings 1972–1977. Brighton: Harvester Press, p. 164. 2 Smart, B. (2002) Michel Foucault. London: Routledge, p. 59. 3 Smart, B. (2002) ibid, p. 40. 4 Foucault, M. (1977a) The Archaeology of Knowledge. London: Tavistock p. 125. 5 Foucault, M. (1971) Orders of Discourse. Social Science Information 10, 2, 7–30. 6 Foucault, M. (1978) Politics and the Study of Discourse. Ideology and Consciousness 3, 14–15. Foucault, M. (1991) ‘Politics and the Study of Discourse’ In Burchell, G., Gordon, C., Miller, P. H. (eds), The Foucault Effect: Studies in Governmentality. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, pp. 53–72. 7 Foucault, M. (1977a) op. cit, p. 173. 8 Foucault, M. (1977a) op. cit, pp. 164–165. 9 Foucault, M. (1977a) op. cit, p. 46. 10 Bouchard, D. F. (ed.) (1977) Language, Counter-Memory, Practice: Selected Essays and Interviews by Michel Foucault. Oxford: Blackwell, p. 143. 11 Bouchard, D. F. (ed) (1977) op. cit, pp. 146–147. 12 Bouchard, D. F. (ed) (1977) op. cit, p. 151. 13 Foucault, M. (1979) The History of Sexuality, Vol 1: An Introduction. London: Allen Lane, Penguin Books, pp. 92–97. 14 Dreyfus, H. L. & Rabinow, P. (1982) The Subject and Power, an afterword by Michel Foucault. Michel Foucault: Beyond Structuralism and Hermeneutics. Brighton: Harvester Press, p. 212. 15 Bouchard, D. F. (ed) (1977) op. cit. Nietzsche, Genealogy, History, p. 153. 16 Foucault, M. (1977b) Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison. London: Allen Lane, Penguin Press, p. 28. 17 Foucault, M. (1977b) ibid, p. 178. 18 Bouchard, D. F. (ed) (1977) op. cit, p. 213. 19 Foucault, M. (1979) op. cit. 20 Smart, B. (2002) op. cit, p. 64. 21 Foucault, M. (1977b) op. cit, p. 27. 22 Foucault, M. (1980) op. cit, p. 97. 23 Foucault, M. (1979) op. cit, p. 95.

Index

Aberdeen 14, 53, 199; police 53; Chief Constable 261 Aberdeenshire 144, 199 Abortion 99, 171–173; concealed 162 Accident insurance 128 Accidental 126, 128 Accounts branches 31 Acreage 118, 194, 196–197; under crops 193 Acts of Parliament 8 Address 32–33, 40, 140; changed 140 Adolescent boys 231, 233 Affluent areas 129, 247 Agricultural census 149 Agricultural experience 199–200 Agricultural fairs 194 Agricultural labourers 24, wages paid to 36 Agricultural quota 197–198 Agricultural representatives 202 Agricultural work 157, 195–201, 203–204, 206 Agricultural workers 202, 206, 254; skilled 193–194, 200, 201; young fit 195 Agriculture 193–200, 202–204, 206 Air guns 230–231 Alarmed the public 11 Alcoholic disease 78 Aldermen 79, 99 Aldershot 182 Alehouse Act 11 Alliance News 82 Allotments 8, 116, 119, 155, 192, 207–210, 222 Amateur girls 93, 164–166, 170, 181, 184, 186, 266 America 87, 111, 180, 254 American Military Authorities 180

Annual certificate issued by the Home Secretary 19 Annual leave 108–109, 204, 213 Annual statement of crime 17 Arable land 8, 209 Archbishop of Canterbury 169, 171; Randall Davidson 170 Archbishop of York 171 Argentina 110 Armistice 2, 255 Army Act 1881, Section 16 183 Army and Navy 137, 177, 181, 182; reservists 136 Army camps 95 Army Council 30, 39, 41, 47–48, 145, 147, 149, 153, 169, 196, 198, 214; severe criticism of 41 Army Paymaster 29, 49, 52 Army rates 36 Army reserve 135; B 136 Army wives 6, 34, on the strength 48 Army-style drilling 233 Arrested 25, 31, 46–47, 49, 52, 93, 96, 178, 183–184, 187 Arrests 6, 14, 38, 53–54, 56–57, 74, 79–80, 84, 95, 183–185, 206, 236, 240, 242, 255; numbers of 25, 75, 78; further arrests later 25 Arthur Henderson 39–40, 42, 45; Leader of the Labour Party 35, 39; MP for Barnard Castle 109 Artisans earning 37 Ashton, Margaret, Manchester Councillor 49 Asquith, Herbert, Prime Minister 29–30, 35, 37, 64, 70, 109–110, 137, 192, 260 Assaulted 25 Association for Moral and Social Hygiene 182

278 Index Association for the Protection of Women and Children Perth and District 165 Aubers Ridge 70 Audit Department 31 Audit Offices 31 Auditorium 258, 261–263 Australia, Commonwealth of 179 Australians 175, 179 Austria 116 Authenticity 55; checks 32 Autocracy 217 Automatic gambling machines 230 Automobile mechanics 24 Autonomy 9, 16–19, 26, 48, 51, 242, 266; police 19, 22, 47, 50 Average calorific intake 7 Backroom jobs 93 Bacon 254 Bad language 145, 166 Bad women 178; morally 162 Bailey, V. 231, 244, 245–246 Bangor Lloyd George’s speech in 69 Barley 79, 117–118 Barnett, L. M. 120–121, 255–256 Barrow 73 Bartley, P. 191 Bath 116 Beat, the 2, 4–5, 7, 12, 25, 49, 76, 108, 110–111, 155–156, 254, 265 Beaupre, D. 188 Beaven, B. 244, 246 Beckett, I. F. W. 121, 171, 187–188 Beer 66, 70, 73; production of 79; shortages of 79; houses 79; brewing of 80 Behaving immorally 31 Belgian refugees 149 Benefactors wealthy 130; influential 130, 132 Benevolence 234 Bereavement 128 Beveridge, W. H. 121, 158, 255–256 Bicycles 146 Birdwood, Field Marshall 179 Birkenhead 72, 97 Birmingham 16, 18–19, 30, 67, 75, 85–86, 89–90, 155, 163, 204–205, 218, 230–231, 233; Watch Committee 24, 89–90, 140; Special Constabulary 155; local Tribunal 155; Chief Constable 25; City Police 205

Birmingham Daily Post 121 Birmingham Post 82 Birth certificate 32 Biscuits 114 Bishop of London 171 Black market trading 115 Blackburn 48, 85, 112 Blackburn, Workers’ Local Committee 48 Blackpool 87, 89, 131; Chief Constable 153 Bland, L. 59, 60, 105 Blockade 79 Board of Agriculture 193, 195, 197, 206–207; policies 197 Board of Trade 140, 195; Interdepartmental Committee 162; estimate 195 Board of Trade surveys 195 Boer War 69 Bolton 89 Bona fide travellers 66, 75; on licensed premises 66; much less in evidence 75 Boots 107, 131, 142; cost 143 Boreham Wood 206 Borough autonomy 18–19 Borough Council 16, 174 Borough police 19, 21, 23 Boroughs 16–19, 26, 33, 72; of less than 5,000 inhabitants 18 Bouchard, D.F. 275 Bowerman, C. W. Secretary of the Trades Union Parliamentary Committee 46 Boys’ Brigades 233 Boys’ Clubs 231, 233 Bradley, K. 245 Braybon, G. & Summerfield, P. 59–60, 256 Breach of the peace 13 Bread 107, 109, 112, 114–117, 192, 248; price of 107; four pound loaf 108; and a scrape 109; eat as little 116; eat less 117, 249; wasting 249 Breadwinner 1, 7, 50, 107, 227, 232 Breakfast 107, 109, 199 Brett, W. 212 Brewers 66 Brewers Gazette 76 Brewers Journal 81 Bridgeman, I. & Emsley, C. 62 Brighton 130; Police Aided Scheme for Clothing Destitute Children 130 Bristol 16, 73, 88, 136, 259; Chief Constable 88–89, 91, 109, 259;

Index  279 Inspector Harris 128; Town Council 128; City Council 128 Bristol Training School for Women Patrols and Police 88, 94 British Board of Film Censors (BBFC) 258 British Constabulary 1, 58 British Farming 198 British Government 180 British Society for the Study of Sex Psychology 163 British Temperance Movement 68 Britishness 7, 135 Britishness 7, 135 Brock, M. & Brock, E. 58, 62 Brophy, J. & Smart, C. 59, 105 Brothel-keeping 95, 167, 168 Brothels 99, 168, 176 Butler, C.V. 245 Butter 63, 107, 109, 112, 116, 118, 247, 253 Cabbage stuffed with rice 115 Cabinet Committee Inquiry, into the price and supply of commodities 110 Cabinet Committee of Man-Power 154 Cabs, licensing 14 Cakes 114, 117, 248 Callan, H. & Ardner, H. 103, 119 Callan, H. 119 Calorific intake 7, 118 Calorific values 118 Cambridgeshire 17, 108 Canada 107, 111, 179–180, 182, 192, 194 Canadian soldiers 167, 168; troops 168; Prime Minister 179 Canteens 266; for workers 71 Card index 44–46, 48 Card index 44–46, 48, 140 Cardiff 43, 73, 127, 130; Chief Constable of 85 Carlisle 51, 57–58, 79, 94, 139; the Chief Constable of 55, 170; Chief Constable’s Annual report 164 Carnarvon 240 Carter, H. 81–83 Cassar, G. H. 82, 146, 158–159 Category B 155, 224 Cave, Sir George, Home Secretary 95, 97, 181, 215, 255, 260–261 Censor films 257; censorship 257–260, 263 Central Control Board (CCB) (Liquor Traffic) 51, 70, 81

Central Control Board, first report 74, 83; second report 81 Central government 122, 173, 249, 255, 258, 260, 263 Cereal harvests lower 111 Certificate of registration 140, 147 Certified Industrial School Acts 15 Certified occupations 195 Chamberlain, Neville 198–199, 202 Champagne 80 Chancellor of the Exchequer 118 Chapels 116 Character 12, 25, 68, 73, 85, 87, 136, 156, 181, 193, 225, 238–240, 243, 259 Charitable causes 208 Charitable funding 54; providing 34 Charitable organisation 35–36, 39–40, 52 Charman, T. 121, 160, 189–190, 212 Checking certificates 7, 135, 147 Cheese 107, 112, 117 Chertsey Rural Tribunal 146 Cheshire 2, 16, 66, 139, 202, 233 Chester, Watch Committee 85 Chief Constables 6, 18, 21–26, 30, 39–40, 45, 48–49, 51, 53, 55, 57, 60, 65, 71, 75, 78–79, 86, 89, 93, 99, 140, 153, 156–157, 196, 205, 209, 215, 226, 230, 240–241, 259–261; conflict with Watch Committees 21, 147; conferences 17, 22, 74; had the power 21; letter sent by Home Office 39; memorandum to 30, 40; Association of 79, 98, 239, 242 Chief Constables’ Annual Reports 55, 57–58; for Scotland 53 Chief Constables’ Association 79, 239, 242; Annual conference 98 Child neglect 99 Children and young people 9 Children’s Corner, the 106; 117 Childs, M.J. 244 Chile 198 Christmas Parcels Fund 131 Church Brigades 233 Churches 68–69, 116, 249 Churchill, W. 131 Cinema 9, 95, 99, 230–231, 249, 258–259, 261, 263, the corrupting effects of the 9, 257–264; grant a license to 258–260, 262; effects of the 9, 257, 260; owners 257, 262 Cinemas 9, 95, 249, 257–263; surveillance of 99, 262 Cinematograph Act, 1909 257, 260

280 Index Cinematograph Trade Council 261 Citizenship 233–235, good 243 City Councils 21 City of London 11, 130; police 13, 98 City/burgh forces 18 Civil order 152 Civil rights suspended 41, 47 Civil unrest 20, 241 Clapson, M. & Emsley, C. 2, 10, 23, 27 Clark, P. 120 Clarke-Hall, William 239 Classes 35, 66, 111, 140, 162, 261, 270; lower 9, 170, 242, 267; working 13, 26, 38, 56, 80, 110–112, 118, 163, 186, 241, 243, 248, 250, 254, 257; lower-middle 13; poorer 7, 129–130, 234; upper 55, 80, 241, 257, 263, 267; middle 57, 163, 186, 232; professional 85 Cleaning up the streets 165 Clergy 72, 163 Clerkenwell 14 Clothing 18, 22–23, 54, 99, 107, 130–131, 173, 181, 185; cost of 19 Clothing destitute children 130–131 Clyde 69 Coal 107, 154; mining 157, 197 Cockfights 13 Colchester 202 Colonial Office 179 Comb out 144, 214 Combed out 8, 153, 195, 224–225 Combing out 150, 153–154, 221, 226 Commanding Officers 29, 48 Committee of Investigation 118 Compulsion 142, 146 Conditions of service 88–89, 92–93, 122, 203, 217, 219, 227, 265 Conscience Week 252 Conscientious objector 144, 152, 221, 227; “Conchies” 152, 224 Conscripted 5, 146, 194, 273 Conscription 1, 8, 122, 135–161, 193, 216, 265–267; 274; age of 5; pressure for 137; in favour of 138; of soldiers and sailors 143; introduced in 1916 213 Consumers’ Council 254 Control of drunkenness 6, 51, 63, 75, 80; decline of government control 6; dominant discourse of 6; discourse of state 71 Control of farming 8 Conviction for wasting bread 249

Convictions for drunkenness 52, 55, 63, 69, 71–72, 74, 78, 80 Cooper, J. 189 Corn 118, 192, 197, 205 Corn Production Bill, April 1917 115, 117 Cost of living 112, 118; rise 110, 118; rising 110 Council of National Unionists 197 Counties 12, 16–17, 19, 26, 174, 194, 205, 217, 253; ratepayers 17 County Agricultural Executive Committees 196 County and Borough Police Act 18 County and Town Clerks 205 County ladies 193 County police force 17–18, 21 County War Agricultural Committees 193, 196, 202, 209; reconstruction of 196 Court 8, 12, 20, 23, 31, 34, 49, 54, 67, 73–74, 85, 87–88, 98–99, 145, 147, 149, 172, 176–178, 182–183, 186, 233, 235–242, 257, 261, 275; taken before a 31; brought to 231 Court appearance 99 Court of Summary Jurisdiction 147 Crawford, Lord, President of the Board of Agriculture 194 Credit sales 74 Crighton, Louise, Head of the National Union of Women workers 170, 171 Crime 7, 9, 11–15, 17, 19, 25, 31, 55, 64, 79, 98, 100, 129, 146, 152, 168, 230–246, 257–261, 263, 266, 275; spiralling out of control 11 Crime rate 231–232; growing 17 Criminal classes 235 Criminal justice system 11, 63 Criminal Law Amendment, Committee 85; Act 87, 95, 176–177, 179–180; Clause 3 95, 177–178, 235 Criminal lifestyle 234 Criminal prosecutions 63 Criminal violence 128 Criminalisation of the poor 11 Criminals 12–14, 93, 97, 235, 237, 239, 261, 266, 273; migration of 17; adult 236 Criminology 4, 273, 275 Critchley, T. 27 Crops 192, 194, 196–197, 206–207, 209–210; home grown 155 Croydon 139

Index  281 Cruelty to children 54 Cultivation orders 196 Cumberland, County of 94–95 Cupar 43 D’Abernon, E. Lord 72–74, 76, 78–80; Chairman of CCB 70 Daily Chronicle 47 Daily Citizen 44, 48 Daily Debates 132 Daily Express 97 Daily Mail 57, 97 Daily News 34, 39–40, 43 Damer Dawson, Margaret 88 Darkened streets 231, 233, 236 Dartford 73 Date of birth 140 Davidson, N. 27, 211 Dead children, claims for 33 Defectives 140 Defence of the Realm Act Regulations (No. 3) 51; (Liquor Control) 1915 83; 13A and B 168–169, 176; 35C 177; 40D 180–182; Manual 188–189, 255–256; Article 3 196; 2L 196; 2M 196; 27 (c) 216; 2F 248; Section 51 252 Deferential 25 Deferred bonus on retirement 125 Deformed children 175, 186 Degeneration of the nation 63–64, 66, 69, 186; national anxiety about 31 Delayed gratification 101, 122, 125 Delinquency 232–233, juvenile 233, 263 Demobilisation 179–180, 182–183, 187, 243; discourse of 156 Denbighshire Standing Joint Committee 143 Denman, Lady, Chair of the Women’s Section of the National Poultry Society 113 Department of Labour Statistics 118 Dependents 29–33, 35, 37–41, 43, 46–47, 49–50, 52, 55, 108, 123, 127, 129, 140, 142, 222; undeserving 29 Derby 125 Derby scheme 5, 136, 140–143, 146–147, 193; Class A 140; Class B 140 Detachment from the community 16 Detective Department (CID) 15, 91 Devon and Cornwall 142, 157 Dewey, P. E. 195, 200, 209, 211–212; Wall, R. & Winter, J. M. 119 Dewey, P.E. 119; 195, 200–212

Dickinson, W. H. Member of Parliament 64 Dietary habits changes in 113, 117 Dietary restriction, voluntary 247 Director General of Food Production for England and Wales, Interim report 118 Discipline 17, 22, 48, 106, 154, 163, 165, 184, 216–217, 231, 233–234, 237–238, 240, 267, 272–273 Discontent 19–20, 119, 124, 154, 157, 195, 217, 226, 247; political and industrial 11 Discretion 17, 21–22, 33, 85, 99, 115, 163, 169, 236, 250, 252; further weekly amount 37 Disorder 11, 16–17, 20–21, 239, 241; threats or actual 17 Disorderly behaviour 166; conduct 42, 178, 235, 241 Disorderly houses 14, 176, 182 Dissolute mothers 162 District conferences 17 Divisional Food Commissioner 247 Docile bodies 142, 238, 265–266, 272 Dock committee 16 Dock police force 16 Dockyards protection of 124 Doctors 57, 157, 174, 176 Domestic service 170 Dominions, The 91, 175, 179–182, 185–186, 265; deputation to the Home Secretary 96 Douglas, R. M. 105 Dover 127 Downing Street 225 Dressmaking 170 Dreyfus, H.L. & Rabinow, P. 275 Drill 18, 88, 154, 222 Drilling 22–23, 233 Drinking 35, 42, 44, 47, 51–57, 64–67, 69, 71–73, 77–79, 162, 231–232, 242–243; controls 13, 79, 242 Drinks industry 6 Driver, F. 10, 267 Driver, F. 10, 267 Drunk and disorderly 31, 46; Returns 52 Drunkenness 6, 31, 38, 44, 49, 51–57, 63, 65–66, 69–75, 77–80, 166, 265, convicted of 31; in the population 31; caused problems for the family 38; amongst women 51, 63, 75; suppression of 51, 65; suppress in

282 Index soldier’s wives 52; arrests for 6, 78, 80, 242; combatting 75 Dumfries Trades and Labour Council 45 Dumfriesshire 95 Duncan, Charles, MP. 124 Duncan, R. 62, 81–83 Dundee 54, 203; Chief Constable’s Annual report for 1915 54; restriction orders 65; Chief Constable 261; Town Council 203 Dundee Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children 52 Dunning, Sir Leonard, HM Chief Inspector of Constabulary 97; Annual report for 1917 98 Durham 137; Co. 73, 218 Earl of Ronaldsay, Member of Parliament for Hornsey 42 East Riding Standing Joint Committee 138 Economising 7, 110; discourse of 218 Edinburgh 33, 76, 127–128, 130, 137, 140, 199–200, 261; Chief Constable 171, 200, 237, 263 Edinburgh Sheriff Court 33 Education Acts 24, 231 Education authorities 193 Edwardian 15, 23; police 25 Eggs 36, 112, 114; selling the 113 Employment of women 89, 92, 95–96, 99, 194; in industry 162 Emsley, C. & Weinberger, B. 157, 160 Enemy warships 8 Enforce the law 21, 148 England 11, 14–18, 43, 55, 57, 63, 65–66, 71–72, 78–79, 98, 117–118, 124–125, 140, 177, 182, 195–196, 200, 206, 218, 230, 247, 249, 259, 262–263 Ernle, R.E. Prothero 210–212 Essential war work 148 Essex 17 Essex Standard and General Advertiser for the Eastern Counties 27 Euston 72 Evening Chronicle 45 Evening Standard 188 Everybody’s Business 121 Exchequer 18–19, 31 Exemption 144, 146, 153–154, 157, 193, 202; from military service 143–144, 157; certificates of 143–144, 146–147; temporary 144; withdraw certificates

of 145, 146, 153, 216; cancellation of certificates 146, 151 Exemptions 8, 145–146, 148, 153, 156, 194, 202, 220 Exeter 116, 131, 137; Watch Committee 108; Chief Constable 250 Expert investigation 79 Eyesight tests 152; relaxed 221 Fairs and markets 13 Family income supplementing the 113 Farm bailiffs 24 Farm labour 111, 193, 209; labourer 115, 193, 206 Farm machinery 198 Farm mechanisation 117 Farm workers 8, 192–212; skilled 193–194, 209; fit young 194–195; essential 202 Farmers 8, 17, 115, 149, 192, 193–200, 203–205, 207, 209–210, 248; demoralisation 8; accused of profiteering 116 Farmers’ Club 197 Farming 192–193, 195, 197–198, 200, 203, 206–207, 209; arable 192; under State control 209 Farming associations 193 Farming skills 206 Faversham 210 Favouritism 8, 151, 157 Favouritism 8, 151, 157 Federated Training School for Policewomen and Patrols 89 Feed the nation 116, 192–193 Female morals, supervision of 84 Female prisoners 87, 89, 99 Feminists 38, 163; perspective 88; ideals 100 Ferens, Thomas, MP for Hull East 94 Fertilisers 192, 198 Fife 143–144 Film industry 258, 260 Financial Secretary 33, 40, 42 Financial support 18, 32, 38, 222 Fined 79, 116, 149, 209, 248; a fine 75, 78, 115, 131, 140, 147, 175–176, 241, 249; fining 178, 241, 247; fines 5, 76, 116, 241, 248–249, 252 Fire Brigade Committee 225 First World War 1–2, 4–5, 9–11, 18, 20–23, 25–26, 51, 56, 100, 129, 132, 240–241, 265, 269; beginning of the 1; end of the 5, 11, 267; work of the

Index  283 police in the 11; after the 18; opening year of the 56 Fish 110, 112 Fit young men of military age 8 Fitness to join the army 4; lowering the level 5 Fitness training national programmes of 155 Flashlights 143 Flashpoints 213–229 Flirtations 166 Flour 106, 112, 114, 117, 192, 209 Folkestone 95, 167–168, 180; Chief Constable of 167 Folkestone, Hythe, Sandgate and Cheriton Herald 188 Food burden 117 Food control 9, 265; the police and 237–256; discourse of 9, 237, 251, 255; Orders 249 Food control committees local; 247, 252; (Local Distribution) Order 250 Food Controller 79–80, 114, 116–117, 247–248, 250–254; Office 116 Food demonstrations 116 Food economy 117 Food Inspectors 251–252, 255 Food intake 266; reduce 248 Food Office 249; local 249 Food orders 248, 255 Food Pledge 117 Food policy 247 Food prices 249, 251; soared/soaring 7, 107; continuing to rise 117, 125 Food production 6, 24, 115, 118, 121, 154, 201, 207, 211; home 117, 193, 196; increase in home 114; supplementing 209 Food queues 9, 116, 247, 250, 253, 255; lengthy 116 Food rationing 118, 254 Food regulation 251, 253 Food riots 116 Food shortages 1, 106, 112, 116, 149, 251, 254; increasing 79, 119; national 205; serious 250 Food supplies 7, 79–80, 107, 112, 115, 197; regulation of 9 Food supply 79, 117–118, 194, 198, 202, 208, 247–248, 253 Foods 115, 117–118, scarce 9, 253; essential 119, 250 Football matches 135, 148 Foreign credit 38

Foucault, M. 2, 4–5, 10, 79, 267, 269–273, 275; discursive practices 2, 5; non-discursive practices 4, 270, 272; social institutions and practices 107; forms of domination 5; exercise of power 5, 273, 274; programmes of social action 5; unintended outcomes 5; analysis of text 9; multiple discursive practices 5; Discipline and Punish 5, 245, 267, 272, 275; Michel (1926–1984) 269; techniques of power 269, 272; archaeology 270; The Archaeology of Knowledge 10, 271, 275; The History of Sexuality 267, 273, 275; power relations 274; confessional 274; genealogical knowledge 269 Fox, Sir Francis 175 France 21, 71, 112, 116, 152, 168, 177, 206, 221–222, 225 Franklin, C. A. 103 Fraser, N. 58 Fraudulent claim 30, 33–34, 53 Fruit 110, 112, 207, 236 Fuel 107 Funk holes 150 Gambling 26; machines 230–231 Gaming 14, 231 Gardens 116, 192, 207 Garland, D. & Young, P. 10 Garrison service at home, Category 1 145 Gas Light and Coke Co. 219 Gateshead 72 Gazeley, I. & Newell, A. Geddes, Auckland 146, 206; Director of National Service 151, 220 Gender-specific roles 7, 86–88, 91, 95, 98–101 Genealogy 272; genealogical knowledge 269; analysis 271 General Instructions 12 German East Africa 222 German prisoners of war 206 German U-boat attacks 207 Germany 87, 115–116, 221 Gertrude Tuckwell collection 60–61 Gilbert, James, MP for Newington West 125 Glasgow 50, 73, 89, 132, 167, 199; Lord Provost’s Soldiers’ and Sailors’ Fund 131; Chief Constable 239 Glasgow Council 35; Corporation 50, 203 Glasgow Evening News 74

284 Index Glasgow Herald 33 Gloucester 112; jail 206 Gonorrhoea 177 Good physique 12 Good police force, the 6, 49 Good policeman, the 1, 4 Good policemen 24; daily lives 9 Good practice 108; disseminated 17 Government bureaucracy 57 Government desperation 138 Government funds 30, 47 Government programmes 5 Graham, Sir James 15 Grain 117, 192, 194, 206–207 Grantham 44, 58, 93, 169 Grassland 197, 200, 205–206 Grayzel, S. R. 37, 58–59, 61–62, 104, 159, 187–188 Great Northern Hospital 131 Greenaway, J. 72, 81–83 Greenock 144, 202, 204; restriction orders in 65 Gregory, A. 59, 158–159 Greville, Frances, Countess of Warwick 35 Grievances 2, 25, 129 Grieves, K. 158, 160–161, 210–211, 228 Grimsby 76 Guardians of public morality 184 Guest, Captain Frederick, MP for East Dorset 177 Habitual criminals 12 Habitual drunkards 31, 54, 266 Halifax Federated Trades and Labour Council 45 Hammersley, General 43 Hampshire 112 Harold Baker, Financial Secretary to the War Office 40, 42, 45 Harris, J. 83 Harrogate 130 Harvest 8, 111, 117–118, 204–205, 209; poor 194; autumn 205 Hastings 154 Hayes-Fisher, William, Parliamentary Secretary to the Local Government Board 200 Heidensohn, F. 103, 105 Hendrick, H. 264 Henrick, H. 244 Henry, Sir Edward, Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police 46, 50–51, 89, 91, 123, 125, 130, 171, 174, 178–179, 217, 224, 226

Hereford 139 Hertfordshire 12, 17 Hertfordshire 12, 17 High turnover 24 Highgate Police Court 149 Hinchcliffe, P. 160 Hoarding 9, 118, 252–253; food 251–252; Food Hoarding Order 251–253 Hodge, J. M. & Garside, T. H. 58, 133 Holloway 75; Prison 96; Special constables 131 Home Defence Forces 198 Home Front 1, 112, 154, 157, 201, 209, 227, 241, 255, 265–267; property on the 156; to sustain the 101; war effort 135 Home Office 1, 7, 13, 16–18, 22–23, 26, 29, 39–43, 45–48, 50–51, 73, 85, 88, 93, 96–97, 100, 126, 140, 146–147, 156, 162, 168, 170, 179–181, 196, 216, 221, 223, 226, 230, 233–234, 257–258, 262, 267; Quarterly reports to 16; role 18; challenged borough autonomy 19; covering letter 39; patriarchal view 47; Order 40, 49; Departmental Committee on the Treatment of Young Offenders 239; directly instructed Chief Constables 26 Home Office to Chief Constables 22, 29, 51 Home Secretary 11–12, 14–15, 17–19, 21–23, 43, 45, 65, 75, 81, 85–86, 89, 93–95, 97, 100, 112, 124, 128, 136, 138, 144–146, 178, 181–182, 184, 215–217, 223, 225, 231, 233, 258–262; communicate directly with Chief Constables 21 Hooliganism 241, 263 Hornsey Tribunal 144 Horse and Foot Patrols 12 Horseferry Road 175 Horticulture section 206 Hospital 8; 131, 174–175, 177, 182, 185–187, 266; hospitalised 5 Hospitalised 5 Hounslow District Railway Station 96 House of Commons 33, 36–37, 39, 41, 50, 65, 67, 69–70, 91, 95, 111, 117, 124–126, 137–139, 142, 144–145, 151, 178, 181, 183–184, 197–198, 200–201, 215, 217, 219, 223, 225–226, 251–253, 258; a Committee of the 14; questions in the 52, 64 House of Commons debates 95

Index  285 House of Lords 63, 182 Householders 12–13, 149 Housekeeper 110, 114–115 Houses of ill repute 175, 185 Houses of Parliament 1, 20 Housewives booklets published for 110 Hove 114 Howard Association 231, 234, 237, 240 Huddersfield 87, 89; Chief Constable of 86 Hull 24, 87, 94, 129, 231; Police authorities 128; police 207 Hunt, C. 59 Husband 4, 7, 32, 46, 98, 106, 109, 113, 119, 150, 172–173, 222, 232; patriarchal 38, 50; surrogate 46

Inspection of police forces 18 Inspector of Constabulary 18, 22, 97, 149, 184, 259 Inspectors 12, 15, 18, 107, 127 Institutional care 78 Insubordination 22, 24, 151, 216, 223 Insubordination 22, 24, 216, 223; penalty for 151 Intelligence 12 Intemperance 52, 54, 66–67, 261 Intoxicating Liquor (Temporary Restrictions) Act 51, 66 Ireland 11, 146, 247, 249 Irish garrisons 152 Irish Potato Pudding 114 Italy 116

Illegal abortions 8, 171, 185 Illegitimate births 5, 8, 171; increase in 170 Illegitimate children 162 Immorality 8, 95–96, 98, 165–166, 169, 171, 173, 176, 232, 261–263; regulation of 14, 38, 42, 44, 49, 55, 90; level of 165; definitely established 39; prevent 94–95, 263; contain 163; suggestions of 261 Imperial War Council 179, 181 Imported food 8 Imprisoned 31, 209 Imprisonment 5, 15, 57, 75, 122, 147, 176, 182, 196, 206, 247–249, 252; of dubious value 78 Incarceration 236, 266 Increased government control 6 Increased militarisation 154 Increasing state control 55, 57; discourse of 29 Indecency 176, 260, 273; prevent 94, 261 Indecent advertisements 176–177; Act, 1889 177 Independent Labour Party, York Branch 48 India 180 Industrial absenteeism 67; and inefficiency 67 Industrial action, threat of 80 Industrial feeding-schools 14 Industrial production 122 Industrial unrest 247 Industry 67, 68–69, 220, 258, 260 Inebriate Reformatory 31, 77–78 Inebriates Act 1898 31, 38, 77 Inefficiencies in the service 10

Jackson, L. A. 27 Jennings, P. 81, 83 Johnstone, H. 245 Jones, H. 157 Jones, Leif, Liberal MP 69; President of the United Kingdom Alliance 64 Jones, O. 229 Journalists 163 Joyston-Hicks, Mr, MP for Brentford Judicial statistics for 1899 69 Juvenile convictions 237 Juvenile courts 237, 242 Juvenile crime 9, 14, 55, 91, 98, 230–231, 233–236, 260, 263; increase in 57, 184, 237, 239–240, 258–259, 261, 264; rate of 243; in Edinburgh 261 Juvenile criminals 14 Juvenile lawlessness 230 Juvenile Offenders Act 14 Juvenile Organisations Committee 233–234 Keep the peace 21, 241 Keeping records 5 Keith-Lucas, B. 21, 23, 28 Kempster, John 2 Kennington 33 Kensington Gardens 207 Kent 12, 137 Khaki fever 8, 85, 163–164, 170, 185, 271 King and Queen 207 King, Joseph, PM for North Somerset 92 King, Mr. MP for Somerset N 92 King, the 116, 135, 217; the King’s Pledge 69; His Majesty 94, 142–143, 181, 214 King’s Cross road 219

286 Index King’s Proclamation 117 Kingston 208 Kitchener, H. H., Lord 44, 57–58, 67, 85, 139, 142; Secretary of State for War 38, 67, 70 Klein, J. 23–24, 27, 217, 227–229 Labour Exchanges 162 Labour History Archive 60–61 Labour Members of Parliament 55–56 Labour opposition 146 Labour organisations 4, 6, 44–45, 50, 56, 217, 247, 254 Labour party 38, 45, 48 Labour representative 248 Lack of a voice 8, 227 Laite, J. 188, 189 Lambert, George, MP for South Molton, Devon 201 Lambeth 33 Lammasniemi, L. 190 Lancashire 66; disorder 16 Landowners 197 Larceny 231, 235 Lawlessness 13, 230–231, 233, 243 Leeds Mercury 120 Leeson, C. 244–246 Leicester 242; Police Aided Association 131 Length of service 19, 24, 124, 223–224 Levels of categorisation 4 Levine, P. 60, 102, 104, 188, 190 Liberal Government 38, 56–57; noncompulsion 30; under Herbert Asquith 30 Licensed premises 65–66, 70–71, 76–77, 79–80; compulsory purchase of 71 Licensing Bill of 1908 63 Licensing control 53–54 Licensing Justices 65 Lincolnshire 93, 248 Liquor Control Order 54, 76 Liverpool 16, 18–19, 24, 72–73, 75, 84, 87, 89, 147, 167–168, 204, 231–232; force “seething” with poor morale 25; Chief Constable 215; City Justices 231 Livestock 114, 192, 194; grazing 196, 209 Living costs 106–121, 265 Lloyd George, David 37, 63, 68–69, 76, 112, 114, 117, 146, 175, 197–199, 207, 217, 226–227, 255; Prime Minister 79, 111, 197, 247

Local authorities 9, 14, 65, 72, 92, 107, 117, 168, 174–175, 186, 200, 209, 249, 251, 255, 257–260, 263, 265 Local control 21, 145; loss of 16–17 Local Councils 31, 174, 206, 259; local representative committees 37 Local Food Committees 117, 250–251, 253 Local Government 14, 19, 24, 44, 117, 140, 148, 153–154, 174, 192, 200; strong opposition by 18; Act of 1888 18 Local Government Act 1888 18 Local Government Board 117, 140, 148, 153–154, 174, 200 Local people 13, 128, 168, 206–207, 210, 247 Lock them up 166 Lock, J. 102–105 Lockwood, Frank 148 Lodging houses 94; inspecting 14, 99; common 99, 165, 173, 185 Lodging Houses, inspection of 14, 94, 99; common 99, 173, 185; ill-reputed 165 Loftus, B. 100, 105 Lomas, J. 158 London 1, 11–12, 15–20, 22, 26, 33, 36, 43, 52, 66, 69, 72, 75, 88–90, 92–93, 96–97, 109, 116, 130, 149, 154, 167–168, 171, 174–175, 178–180, 182–183, 186, 197, 207, 218–219, 239, 250, 253, 260; centralisation on 19; County Council 20, 265; resistance to centralisation 26; Bishop of 171 London County Council 20, 225 London Fire Brigade 225 London Palladium 130 London postal area 36 London, East End 72 Long pull, the 71 Long, Walter, President of the Local Government Board 140 Long-term employment 24 Loose, Battle of 138 Lower incomes 209 Low-income households 118 Loyalty to the force 25 Luddite activity 11 Lunatics 140 Lyell, Sheriff 73 Macready, General 226 Maesteg Urban District Council 262 Magistrates 9, 13–15, 17–18, 55, 64, 66–67, 75, 78, 81, 84, 145, 148–149,

Index  287 168, 178, 182, 204, 231, 233, 235, 238–240, 259; annual statement of crime 17; urban 238 Mahood, L. 245 Maize 117 Male supervision 6, 38, 47 Malicious damage 231 Manchester 16, 24, 84–85, 90, 93, 131, 142, 149, 153, 167, 183, 218, 231–232, 259; City Police recruits 24; better relations with their Chief Constable 25; Relief Committee 49, 80; Chief Constable 89–90; Magistrates in 84; Police 18, 154, 223 Manchester Guardian 48 Mangold-wurzels 116 Manhood 150–151, 176 Manpower 68, 123, 136, 144, 192, 194–195, 198, 221, 227, demands for 140; reinforcements 152; farming 198; quota from agriculture 198 Man-Power Distribution Board 144, 154, 194, 196 Margarine 109, 118, 247, 250, 253 Marital status 5, 97, 137, 140 Market gardens 115 Marlow, J. 104 Marriage certificate 32 Martial law imposed 41, 47 Marwick, A. 81 Marxist analysis 267 Marylebone Magistrates 145 Mason, James, MP for Edinburgh East 76 Matrons 84, 89, 95, 99 Maude Royden, A. 189 McDermott, J. 210–212 McDonald Gardner, James 73 McKenna, Reginald, Home Secretary 43, 45, 65, 86, 89, 258 McPhail, Constable 73 Meat 110, 113–115, 117, 192, 197, 247, 254, eating: 109 Medical certificate 124 Medical examination 97, 151, 176, 182, 184, 267; medically examined 96, 187, 273 Medical press 43 Medical statistics 78 Medically unfit 138; for active service 155 Medicine 4, 6, 78, 80, 272 Melville, Lee, W. L. 20, 26–27

Members of Parliament 30, 34, 36–38, 42, 129, 200–201, 263; Labour 55–56 Menus weekly 110; cut-price 110; vegetarian 110; meatless 114 Merchant ships 108 Merseyside 75 Metal trades 220 Metropolis 11–12, 85, 126, 138, 152, 202, 224 Metropolitan and City Police Orphanage 129 Metropolitan area 14–15, 57, 96, 124, 174 Metropolitan District 52 Metropolitan Officers 14 Metropolitan Police 12, 14, 16–17, 20, 24, 95–96, 112, 124–125, 135–136, 141–142, 144–145, 151–152, 183, 199, 205, 216, 222–223, 225–226, 236, 253; establishment in 1829 5; withdrawal of labour in 1872 19; recruitment 24; length of service 224; strike 8, 154, 225–227 Metropolitan Police bill 11 Metropolitan Police Clauses Act 1839 183 Metropolitan Police District 96, 253 Middle or upper class women 35 Middle-class women 85, 101, 163; patrols 85; moral policing 86 Middlesbrough 72, 95 Middlesex 12 Midlands 75 Militant women 89 Military Police 221–222 Military Recruiting Officers 144, 194 Military recruitment rallies 30 Military Service (Review of Exemptions) Act 145 Military service 24, 122, 129, 139, 143–144, 146, 150, 152–155, 157, 182, 187, 193–195, 198–200, 215–216, 222, 224; to evade 151, 223, 224; evading 224 Military Service Act 1916 143, 146–147, 193, 214 Military Services (No 1) Act 220 Military Services (No 2) Act 152–153 Military Substitution Officers 195 Military training 154–155; regular 214; to undergo 222 Milk 36, 109, 112, 192, 197, 199; production 195 Millman, B. 227 Milner, Alfred, Lord 79 Miners 220 Miners Federation of Great Britain 36

288 Index Minimum wages 115; for farm labourers 115; set locally 115 Mining 36, 157, 197 Ministers of religion 152 Ministry of Food 9, 117, 247, 255 Ministry of Munitions 70–71, 88, 94–95 Ministry of Pensions 38 Misconduct 39, 40, 43; by wives 29, 39 Missing persons 14 Monarchy 135 Montgomery, J.K. 211–212 Moral decline 163, 166; a sign of 145; serious 162; national 230 Moral panic 162, 185–186, 262 Moral welfare 171; of the community 165; of the inhabitants 165 Morale 25 Morally bad girl, the signs of 166 Morrell, Philip, MP for Burnley 197 Morris, R. M. 26–27 Mortality 78 Mothering behaviour 164 Muncie, J. 244, 246 Municipal agitation 18 Municipal Corporations Act 16, 18, 22–23; autonomy to local government 16 Munitions factories 7, 94, 103, 155, 170, 202; closed 7, 100, 198; absences in 68 Munitions work 157, 195 Munro Ferguson, Sir Ronald, Governor General of Australia 179 Music Halls surveillance of 99 Naïve girls 85, 166 Napoleonic France 21 National Archives 4, 61 National Council for Combating Venereal Disease 174 National Council of Public Morals Commission of Enquiry 261 National crisis of war 156 National distress, alleviate 35 National efficiency 6, 63, 69, 72, 246; to win the war 6, 63–64, 68, 80, 265; appeal to 68; promotion of 94 National emergency 1, 50, 101, 153 National Food Journal 249 National headlines 56, 69 National importance work of 143, 195, 198; work not of 151, 223 National interest 143, 146, 224, 250 National news 32 National outcry 50, 56, 170

National Rationing Scheme 118 National Register 140 National Registration Act 140, 147 National Relief Fund 35 National Service Department 198–199 National Service Ministry 205; Medical Boards 221 National statistics 69 National surveys 9 National Temperance Federation 63 National Union of Women Workers (NUWW) 88, 170; Birmingham Branch 85 National uproar 6, 29, 56 National uproar 6, 29, 56 National Vigilance Association 85, 170 National Women’s Temperance Association 86 Naval allowance 36 Naval and Military authorities 65 Naval and Military Services 37 Naval Discipline Act 1866 32 Need to produce home-grown food 192; discourse of 8, 192, 206–207, 209 Needlework 114 Neglect of children 38 Neighbourhoods 67, 129, 267 Neuve Chapelle, Battle of 70 Neville, S. 83 New Army 34–35, 58 New duties 1 New police 12, 13, 18, 20; enthusiasm for 13; general support for 17 New Volunteer Act, 1916 of 1916 214 New Zealand 180–182; Army 179 Newcastle 70, 72–73, 75, 174, 204; local authority 259 Newfoundland 180 Newhaven 71, 73 Newspaper articles 4 Nineteenth century 1, 14, 19, 23, 101, 131, 185, 192; disorder 11; middle of 14 Norfolk 203; War Agricultural Committee 203 North of England 71–72 North West Europe 225 North-East coast 72–73, 75 Northumberland 73 Norwich Chief Constable 234 Nott-Bower, Lady 98 Nottingham Evening Post 60 Nottingham Police Wives’ Association 131

Index  289 Oats 114–115, 117–118 Occupation 30, 106, 111, 135, 140–141, 146, 148, 151, 153, 156–157, 193, 220, 233, 254; withdrawal of certificates of exemption 153 Offence, summary 248 Offences against the Person Act 1861, Section 58 172; Section 59 172 Officer of the crown 21 Old Age Pensions Act 30 Old Street Magistrates and Children’s Court 239 One Day’s Rest in Seven 217 Orchards 115 Organised women 4, 6, 178 Original documents 4 Outbreak of war 29, 34–36, 38, 50, 53–55, 63–64, 85, 123–124, 135–136, 163, 169, 174, 213 Outhwaite, Robert, Liberal MP for Hanley 41 Overindulged in alcohol 6 Pancakes 114 Pankhurst, Sylvia, East London Suffragettes 36 Paranoia 165, 223 Parental control 15, 86, 240, 259; adequate 86; lack of 95, 98, 185; decay of 184 Parental neglect 231 Parental supervision 238 Parish 12, 16–17; leaders 13 Parkhurst 14 Parks 86, 92, 95, 148, 164–165, 178, 192, 207 Parliamentary accountability 38 Parliamentary Committees 11 Parliamentary Debates 30 Parr, Robert, Director of the NSPCC 44 Part, A. 82 Partington, Mr. 52 Pastry 117 Patriarchal discourses 6, 56 Patriarchal family 48, 107, 227, 232, 243 Patriarchal role of surrogate husband 46 Patriarchy 6, 29, 38, 54–55, 57, 266 Patriarchy 6, 29, 54–55, 57, 266; national 38 Patriotic 150, 152, 224 Patriotism 193, 224; lacking 223 Patrol work 94, 100, 139 Patrolling 15, 91, 94, 96, 164; the streets 90, 93–94, 99 164; parks 164; open spaces 164

Paying the allowance 31; delays in 31 Pearson, G. 246 Pedagogy 4 Pedersen, S. 50, 59, 61–62 Peel, C. S. 62 Pembrokeshire 218 Penal policy 230 Penal servitude 15, 122, 172 Pension contributions 123, 126; deductions of 124 Pension payments 30, 132; through the Post Office 31 Pensions Committees and SubCommittees 37; local 30, 32, 34 Pensions Officers local 32, 33 Pensions, police 7, 19, 51, 92, 96, 122–134, 154, 265; discourse of 122; widow’s 122–123, 128 Perkins, Walter, MP for the New Forest 91; Commons amendment 92 Personal liberty loss of 13 Perthshire 201 Petrow, S. 191 Pheasants 115; cull 115 Philanthropy 7, 55, 122–134, 267; police 132; private 14; discourse of 7, 129 Phillips, Joseph 73 Photographers 24 Physical condition of the drunk 78; mental condition 78 Physical strength 91–92, 94–95, 98, 101, 198 Physically unfit 140 Planting and harvest seasons 8 Plough policy 196, 197, 209 Plough up pasture 8, 205 Ploughing 119, 192, 194, 203–206, 209–210; specialist skills 198; experience 8, 24, 198, 200, 209 Ploughmen 192–212; skilled 195, 206; temporary 206 Ploughs 198 Plymouth 69, 131, 167, 180 Police (Emergency Provisions) Act, 1915, The 124, 154, 157 Police (Naval and Military Service) Act 1917 114 Police (Scotland) Act 18 Police and Prison Officers’ Union (NUPPO) 46, 216, 220, 226 Police authority on the streets 25 Police Authority the 37, 119, 122, 125– 126, 128–129, 139, 142, 146, 203, 223 Police autonomy 22, 47, 50

290 Index Police band performances 147 Police blunder 96 Police Constables (Naval and Military Service) Bill 1914 108, 125 Police constables 2, 13, 94, 114, 137, 202–203, 223 Police courts 87, 261 Police discipline 217, 223 Police divisions 12 Police efficiency 213 Police families 1, 106, 109, 112, 117, 119, 130; severe hardship 114 Police family diet 7 Police Gazette, The 13 Police home 106 Police Institute 131 Police Mutual Assurance Association 127 Police Naval and Military Service Act 222 Police numbers 146 Police officers 2, 43, 80, 84–87, 89, 91, 111–112, 124–125, 130, 137, 146, 150, 154, 156, 183, 202, 216; killed 129; senior 76, 219, 222–223 Police Order 23rd November 1916 216 Police pay 7, 37, 203, 112, 119–120, 203; to increase 109; inadequacy of 112 Police pension 1, 7, 18–19, 92, 122–123, 126–129, 131; funds 129; full pension 20 Police Pensions Acts 123 Police protection 139 Police rates 13, 209 Police records 9 Police reforms 1; weekly rest day 1, 217–218, 228 Police reservists 7, 135, 157 Police service 1, 5, 7, 9, 11, 85–89, 93–95, 100, 126, 141–142, 151, 216–217, 222, 224–226, 265, 267; outside London 1 Police state 23, 51 Police station 12–13, 46, 49, 84, 89, 174 Police strike 154, 226; of 1918 8, 107, 119, 226–227, 265 Police supervision 38, 42–43, 49, 51 Police surveillance 4, 21–22, 40, 43–44, 50, 52, 57, 80, 129–130, 170, 234, 243; of all wives 6; by neighbours 248; relatives and friends 8; overt 42; covert 42; right of general surveillance 43; wives would bitterly resent 44 Police tactics 9 Police unrest 217 Police values 106, 119, 129, 131

Police Widows’ and Orphans’ Fund 130 Police wife 119, 122, 150; the good 110 Police work 2, 4, 6, 84, 86–87, 93, 98, 100–101, 131, 147, 171, 210, 222, 243, 261, 265; civilian 139 Police, Factories &c. (Miscellaneous Provisions) Bill 102, 128 Police, making gross errors of judgement 93 Policemen respectable 2, 25; selfdisciplined 2; self-taught 2; male macho behaviour 93; time-expired 154, 156; of military age 135, 137–138, 156, 219, 227 Policing as a career 2 Policing strategies 13 Pontypridd 66 Poor law institutions inmates of 140 Poor pay 2, 219 Poor Relief 19, 34 Population of Britain 75; at home 1 Population size 17 Port 80 Portsmouth 130, 133, 240; Watch Committee 130 Portsmouth Trades and Labour Council 45 Post Office 31, 249–250; General 31 Potatoes 109, 110, 112, 114–118, 192, 197, 199, 206–207 Poultry 113, keeping 113 Poverty 11–12, 64, 66, 234; cycle of 231, 243; line 219, 234 Power, representations of 4 Powlesland, Mr. 90 Pregnancy 172; concealed 171 Press reports 165, 171 Press, The 3, 6, 20, 33, 41–44, 53, 70, 77, 97, 112, 141, 145, 165, 170–171, 179–180, 183–184, 202, 248–249, 257; publication in 34 Preston 44, 51, 58, 204 Price rises 110, 112–113, 115, 117, 213, 227 Prison 15, 71, 239, 266, 272 Prisoners 11, 87, 89, 99, 140, 206, 210 Prisoners of war 140, 206, 210 Probation 231, 237, 239, 243, 266 Probation officers 87, 240 Problem drinkers 63 Problem families 238 Procrastination 108 Production line 64 Professional policing 16

Index  291 Professionalism 2, 160 Prohibition 52–53, 63–64, 67, 74, 80, 273 Promiscuity 162; encouraged 170 Promotion prospects 2, 15, 106 Property 12–13, 26, 119, 139, 152, 156, 173, 225; protection of 20, 149 Prosecution 63, 72–74, 76, 80, 172–174, 176, 178, 181–182, 185, 206, 248–249, 255; initiate a 22; interfere with 22 Prostitution 26, 84–86, 163, 167, 169–170, 175, 177, 179–180, 182–183, 185–186, suppress 99; temptation of 169 Protect life and property 20, 156, 225 Protected industries 149 Protected Occupations 220 Prothero, Roland, President of the Board of Agriculture 195–199, 206–207 Provincial police reform 16 Psychology 4, 273; use of 234 Public anxiety 40, 51, 70, 80, 162, 170–171; in drinking and immorality 55; about drunkenness 31; that sexual immorality could not be controlled 165 Public approval 205 Public decency 42 Public discontent 157 Public donations 130 Public expenditure, retrenchment in 125 Public figures 131, 192, 207, 260 Public house opening hours 6 Public houses 43, 54, 66–67, 71–72, 79–81, 163, 243; drinking in 162, 232, 241–242 Public image 51, 56, 106 Public order 11, 18, 74, 157, 177; preserving 12; maintenance of 14, 23, 141, 225 Public outcry 51, 163, 183, 186 Public parks 207 Public protest 47, 56, 116, 178, 182 Public scorn 145 Pulses 118 Punishment 9, 15, 25, 33, 54, 71, 75, 79, 178, 184, 187, 231, 235–236, 240, 242, 265–266; corporal 5, 25, 240, 266 Punishment of Incest Act, 1908 178 Quack remedies 177 Quarter Sessions 17 Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee 131 Quiet and calm manner 12

Rabbits keeping 114 Ragged School 14 Railway stations 72, 94, 165, 186; scenes of drunkenness at 65 Ratepayers 13, 100, 213, 218, 237; counties 17; London 20 Rations 254; supplementary 254 Rawlings, P. 10, 26 Rawlings, P. 10, 26 Reading 127; Book of Rules and Regulations 127 Recipes 7, 106, 110, 115–117 Recipes 7, 106, 110, 115–117 Recruits 12, 24, 30, 32, 34, 36, 58, 137, 147, 177, 182, 209, 221–223, 225, 266 Red Cross 131 Redhill 130 Reformatory 15, 31, 95, 237; School 87, 233, 237, 239; School Act 14 Regimental commander 34 Regimental Paymaster 32, 36 Regulated prices 117 Rehabilitation 163, 236 Reigate 75, 148; Head Constable of 75 Relief Committee 29, 40–41, 44, 49 Relief Fund 35, 112; Serbian 131 Religion 4; Ministers of 152 Religious organisations 71 Remand home 239 Report of the Royal Commission on Venereal Disease 92, 173 Report of the Royal Commission on Venereal Disease 92, 173, 176 Reprimanded 113, 185 Resentment 51, 79, 93, 111; in the police 14 Reserve Forces Act, 1882 147 Resistance 4–5, 9, 23, 28, 48, 74, 76, 79, 86, 90–93, 98, 136, 194, 224, 265–267, 271–272; creates positive and negative results 9; to government requests 55; from individuals, groups and organisations 29 Resisters 148, 152 Respectability 25, 57, 183, 232; national discourse of 51; challenged 163 Respectable living 40 Respectable women 41, 46 Restricted opening hours 74 Retailers 9, 247–251, 255; retail 249 Retirement 7, 122, 125, 129–130, 132, 154, 213; prevented by Act of Parliament 7; voluntary 124; age 24

292 Index Retirement 7, 24, 122, 124–125, 129–130, 132, 154, 213 Retirement age 7, 24, 129, 132, 154, 213 Reynolds’ Weekly Newspaper 46 Rhondda, Lord, Food Controller 149, 247–250, 254 Rice 115, 117, 199 Rice and Pea cake 115 Richardson, M. 121 Riddell, G. Lord 82 Right to confer 220 Right to strike 2 Rights and responsibilities 41, 47, 56 Rioting 253; threat of 9, 26 Rise of women the; 84–105, 186 Rising fear of crime 16 Rising prices 199, 209, 241 Robb, G. 132, 190 Robert Peel 11 Roberts, R. 256 Robertson, J.C. 264 Robey, George 130 Rochdale 150 Rock, A. 102 Roles with women and children 87, 100 Root crops 206–207 Ross, Roderick, Chief Constable of Edinburgh 264 Rotherham Borough Tribunal 146 Rothwell, Mark 157, 159 Route marches 154, 222 Royal Assent 220 Royal Commission 100, 175, 185; of 1836 17 Runaway horse 128 Rural areas 17, 79, 206, 210 Rural gentry 16 Rural parishes 16 Russell, Charles, E.B., Chief Inspector of Reformatory and Industrial Schools 233, 239 Rye 118 Salvarsan 174, 187 Samuel, Herbert, Home Secretary 93, 126, 142, 145, 257–258, 260 Samuel, Jonathan, MP for Stockton-onTees 92 Scientific methods 7 Scotland 11, 14, 18, 21, 43, 53, 57, 63, 65, 74, 96, 117, 124, 140, 196, 199, 200–202, 247, 249, 263, Western Border 75 Scotland Yard 12, 15, 154

Scott, C. 120–121, 210–211 Scottish Office 117 Scottish Union of Women Workers 95 Scouts Boy 235 Secondary texts 4 Secretary of State 38–39, 47–48, 52, 70, 96–97, 124–125, 137–139, 178, 198–200, 214, 219; for the Home Department: 17, 52, 96, 258 Secretary of State for Scotland 52, 199–200 Secretary of State for the Home Department 52, 258 Sedentary work 153, 155, 195 Segregated 8, 48, 84, 99, 101, 181, 223, 236, 238; from society 78 Selborne, Lord, President of the Board of Agriculture 193–194 Select Committee on Naval and Military Grants Second report 126 Select Committee on Pensions and Grants 37, 126 Select Committee on War Pensions and Allowances First Report 125 Select Committees 11 Sergeants 12, 15, 107, 225 Serious hardship 143 Serious misconduct 39; by the wife 39 Serving King and country 136; a duty 151; the discourse of 7, 135, 137, 156, 157, 213, 226 Settle, L. 104 Sexual activity 171, 176; illicit 163 Sexual chastity 85, 163 Sexual immorality 164–165, 171, 174, 176–178, 182, 184–186; public fear of 162; prevent 164; dangers of 166; links with alcohol 166; discourse of 169–170, 173, 179, 183; heightened anxiety about 172; signs of 171, 173 Sexual liberation 163 Sexual morality 265; 267; imposed 14; policing 162–191; discourse of 8, 174, 185 Sexuality 85, 164, 273; blatant 163; women’s 85, 163 Shadwell, A. 82 Sheffield 16, 19, 48, 93, 148, 219, 231, 253; Police authorities 128; Police 219; Chief Constable 49, 51 Sheffield 93, 231, 254; Police 128, 219; Chief Constable of 49, 51 Sheffield Telegraph 154 Shell shortage scandal 70

Index  293 Shifts 8, 13, 71, 137, 154, 214 Shipbuilding 154 Shipbuilding Employers’ Federation 67 Shipping 68, 112, 157, 193, 209 Shirkers 138–139, 148, 152, 223; young 139; harbouring 139 Shop-breaking 235 Shore, H. 245 Shoreditch 33 Short, Alf, Sheffield Councillor 48 Simon, Sir John: Home Secretary 52, 136, 138 Slater, S. 190 Smale, D. M. 27 Smart, B. 10, 275 Smith, Edith 93 Smith, Robert Andrew 79 Snowden, P. MP for Blackburn 112 Soaring prices 1 Sobriety 57, 67, 73, 243; indicator of 63; to increase 68 Social advancement 119 Social class 9, 230, 247, 267 Social commentators 231–232, 241, 243 Social conscience 129, 132, 242, 251 Social control 232; of youth 238 Social decline 55 Social degeneration 175, 185–186 Social disgrace 172–173, 175, 180, 185 Social distance 106 Social mechanisms 9, 265 Social norms 25 Social outcasts 151 Social purity 45 Social reformers 55, 66, 231–232 Social scandal 97 Social work 4; investigations 243 Social workers 233, 239, 266 Society of Friends 144 Soldiers’ and Sailors’ Families’ Association (SSFA) 34, 36, 54; criticisms of 35; essential role 35; Annual Report for 1914 44 Solicitation 95, 167–168, 170, 176–177, 182–184 Soliciting on the streets 93, 183 Somerset 112, Standing Joint Committee 126 Somme 147; high casualty rate 215 South Africa 180 South Shields 72 South Wales Weekly Post 103 Southampton 73, 79, 87 Special Branch policemen 69

Special constables 1, 16, 95–97, 101, 108, 130–132, 136, 138–139, 141, 143–146, 148–149, 151, 153–156, 208–209, 213–216, 222–223, 225–226, 240–241, 254; large numbers 1, 10; Act 1914 96; harbouring 138, 145 Special Constables Act 1831 149; 1914 96 Special military duties 124 Special schools 175 Spirits 54, 69–70, 79, 166; dilution of 71 Split peas 114 Springall, J. 244 Spring-Rice, M. 120 St Helens 259 Stalwart loafers 138 Stamina 7, 86, 243 Standing Committee Home Office 233 Stanley, Edward, Earl of Derby Director of Recruiting 140 Starred occupation 141, 146, 193; starred workers 209 Starvation 50, 109, 114–115; in the first few months of the war 31; worries about 213 State Rescue Home 178, 236 State welfare 55, 57 Statistics 5–6, 9, 52–53, 55, 63, 68–69, 75, 78, 112, 124, 174, 196, 230–231, 255, 259, 261; birth rates 5; death rates 5; legitimate and illegitimate births 5, 171; age profiles 5; people with particular types of disease 5; food purchasing habits 5 Statutory Committee of the Naval and Military War Pensions Etc., Act, 1915 37 Steedman, C. 27 Stockpiled 112 Stockport 16; Police Poor Children’s Outing Fund 130 Stoke Newington 33 Stoke-on-Trent Watch Committee 123 Strachan, H. 59, 82 Street musicians 14 Street sellers, licensing 14 Strikes 11, 21, 107, 116, 157 Struggles 1, 4–5, 100, 265, 269, 274 Submarine warfare unrestricted 112; attacks 197, 209 Submarines 69, 193 Substitutes 114, 117, 156, 198, 201; competent 149 Substitution 118, 162, 195, 215, 221, 225; of fit young men 144

294 Index Suffolk 17 Sugar 79, 110, 114, 117–118, 247, 249–250, 253 Sunderland Police Force 139; Fire Brigade 139 Superintendent 12, 76–77, 88, 202 Superintendents’ conference 202 Suppression of Gaming Houses 14 Surplus to requirements 221 Surrey 12, 112–113, 146; Chief Constable146; Tribunal 146 Surrogate husbands 6; for surveillance of women 29 Surveillance of women 14, 29, 54, 56, 266; girls and children 93–94 Surveillance strategies women used 164 Swansea 90, 167–168; docks 90, 166; Council 166 Swedes 116 Sydenham 208 Syphilis 178 Taylor, D. 27 Tea 107, 113, 131, 199, 247, 253 Teatime 109 Temperance 39, 55, 63, 66, 69, 71, 76, 79; discourses of self-control 63; movement 68 Temperance campaigners 35 Temperance societies 63, 69 Temporary changes 9 Temporary employees 101 Temporary policemen 136, 148–150, 156, 213 Temporary replacements 10 Temporary workers 93 Tensions 8, 50, 55–56, 136, 147, 157, 186, 201, 213–229; escalating 214; renewed 223 The Admiralty 32, 68, 71; First Lord of 70 The Birkenhead News 104 The Birmingham Daily Mail 85 The Board of Trade Labour Gazette 110, 112; renamed The Labour Gazette from July 1917 107 The Children Act 1908 87, 236–237, 239–240 260; Section 58 238 The Citizen 48 The Daily Mail 44, 57, 82, 97 The Hull Daily Mail 44 The Imperial War Museum 8, 103–104, 121, 160, 190 The incorporated police wife 113; discourse of 7, 119

The Ladies’ National Association 45 The London Gazette 160 The Morning Post 83, 158 The nation 30–31, 35, 43, 51, 55, 64, 67–70, 111, 115–116, 150, 156, 175–177, 186, 192, 197, 207, 218, 220–221, 224–225, 238–239; future of 183, 185; liable to starve 192; should not starve 118, 206 The Nation 43 The Police Review and Parade Gossip 1–2, 25–26; editorials 2, 77–78; primary text 4; campaign 1–2, 7–8; a voice for the policeman 25 The Ritz 251 The Scotsman 76, 136 The Spectator 64 The State 29, 31, 41–42, 50, 56, 70, 122, 129, 155, 175, 184, 197, 209, 218, 266; wives and families looked after by 50 The Strand 175 The Times 2, 32, 44, 48–49, 70–72, 75, 77, 97, 226 The Vote, suffragette newspaper 42 The Weekly Dispatch 44–45, 96 Theatres 148, 258–259 Theft 230, 234; simple 237 Thieves 13, 15; widespread exodus from London 16, 122 Thom, B. 81 Thriftless 232 Time off 108–109, 111, 154, 208, 213, 217–219 Tithe properties 115 Tottenham 240 Town Clerks 22, 205 Town council 21, 106, 149 Town Police Clauses Act 1847 183 Trade Card Scheme 144 Trades Union Congress Parliamentary Committee 45–46 Trades Unions 144, 220, 225, 241, 247 Traditional history 5, 269 Training 15, 22–23, 25, 38, 58, 88–89, 98, 101, 153–155, 166, 174, 177, 222, 225, 236, 238, 267 Training camps 38 Transport 68, 71, 112, 157, 192, 248, 253; regulation of 14 Transport Workers Federation 67 Transportation 15, 69, 192, 253 Transporting troops 112 Treating 67, 71, 74; the troops to drink 65; preventing 79

Index  295 Tribunals 8, 143, 147, 149, 154 156, 195, 201; local 143–144; applications to 144, 194; Home Secretary’s instructions to 148 Troop movements 65 Troup, Sir Edward, Permanent Secretary 39 Truncheon 25, 240 Truro City Police 148 Turner, J. 82 Twickenham Strawberry Hill 129 Under Secretary 42, 136, 138 Unfit 22, 46, 90, 124, 138, 140, 145, 153, 155–156, 177, 199–200, 209, 221 Uniform 12, 15, 25, 43, 85, 145, 151, 154, 163, 184; women wearing 84, 91–93, 99, 101 Unionist politicians 142 United Kingdom Alliance 63–64 United Patternmakers’ Association 48 United States 107, 182, 192, 194 Unmarried mothers 162, 185 Unpatriotic 136 Upward mobility 24 Vagrancy 11, 87, 169, 177, 185 Vagrancy Act 1898 87; 1824 177, 185 Vagrants 17; prosecute 99 Varley, Councillor 114 Vegetables 110, 207–210; curried 115; to grow 116, 192, 207; growing 119, 155, 207–208 Venereal disease 5, 92, 162, 168–170, 174–176, 178–182, 185, 187, 266; spread to the troops 1, 85; rate of infections 8; spread of 7–8, 42, 86, 91, 93, 95, 175, 180, 182, 185–186; threats of the spread 86; fear of 182; combat 183; prevalence of 185 Victimisation 221, 223 Victoria 72; Docks 72 Victorian 23; police 25 Village constable 144 Visibility 272, 273; increased by police surveillance 129 Voluntary organisations 6, 34–36, 38, 52, 68, 163, 185, 230, 233; paid by 93; national 243 Voluntary recruitment 30, 38, 137–138; bad for 34; encouraging 137 Volunteer Act 1863; 214 Volunteer army 30 Volunteer Corps 215

Volunteer Force 154, 215 Volunteer Home Army 199 Volunteering for the army 35 Volunteers 21, 35–36, 40, 95, 138, 142, 149, 157, 198–200, 213–215 Wages Boards 115; District Wages Committees 115 Waites, B. 82 Wakefield 110 Wales 11, 15, 17–18, 55, 57, 63, 65–66, 69, 78–79, 98, 117–118, 124–125, 140, 182, 195–196, 200, 206, 218, 230, 247, 249, 259, 262–263 Walker, Colonel W.H., MP for Widnes 206 Walkowitz, J. R. 191 Wallasey 233 War Agricultural Volunteers 200 War baby 8, 170; war babies 170–171 War bonus 107–112, 114, 125, 213, 227 War Cabinet 145, 152, 180, 194–195, 197–198, 220, 221 War conditions 165 War materials 6, 64, 67–70; efficient production of 64 70 War Office 30–35, 38, 40, 42, 44–45, 48–52, 56, 71, 92, 123, 128, 137, 140–141, 144–145, 154, 156, 170, 194, 197, 201, 206, 214, 258; work of 33; memorandum 44, 152; insults to women 57; pension 125–126; sent fraudulent claims 33 War pensions committees 37 War Separation Allowance 6, 14, 29–31, 34, 36, 38, 56, 162, 266; surveillance of wives 20, 265; controversies over 23, 29–64; branch report 33 War spirit 233; of adventure 235 War weariness 157, 220 Warwickshire 112 Waste 248; of food 248 Watch Committee 6, 16, 18–26, 49, 75, 85–86, 89–90, 97, 101, 106, 108, 114, 123, 130, 140–141, 143, 149–150, 167, 204, 215–219, 262; kept an eye on costs 16; independence of 19, 23 Watchmen 11, 13 Waterloo 72; Road 165, 175 Waterloo Road 165, 175 Watt, Henry, Liberal MP 201 Weekly police pay 37 Weekly Review 96

296 Index Welfare 50, 55, 57, 95, 108, 165, 171, 226, 230, 233, 236, 243, 262, 274; to dependents 30 West End riots 15 West Riding of Yorkshire 75–76, 251 Western Front 155, 221 Westminster Journal 225 Weybridge Tribunal 146 Wheat 79, 107, 115, 117–118, 209; 1916 harvest 111, 192, 194; sowing winter 111; winter crop 118; planting of winter 194; supplies 194 Wheatmeal 106, 192 Whipping 231, 240; whipped 235, 239; post 239 White City 165 Whitehall 226 Whitworth Street Station 183 Wholesalers 248–249; wholesale 249 Wiles, Gladys 98 Wiles, Mr., MP for Islington South 225 Willesden Green 208 Williams, C. A. 10, 16, 19, 21, 26–27 Williams, G. P. & Brake, G. T. 61, 81 Wilson, G. B. 81–82 Wilson, T. 60, 81–82 Wiltshire 112 Windlesham Tribunal 145 Windsor 207 Wine 79–80 Wintour, B. 41, 47 Wireless operators 24 Wives’ Column, the 106–107, 109–110, 113–114 Wolverhampton 95, 234, 262; Chief Constable of 98, 100; tradesman 116 Women clerks 31 Women Patrols 9, 85, 88–91, 93, 95–96, 163, 165, 171, 23 Women police and patrols 86, 88–89, 101, 186, 262, 266; employed in Carlisle 94 Women’s Advisory Committee of the Central Control Board 50, 72

Women’s labour organisations 44 Women’s Local Government Society 44 Women’s organisations 44, 100, 170, 186, 235, 266 Women’s Police Service (WPS) 88, 99 Women’s rights 94 Woodeson, A. 103 Woodlands 115 Woollacott, A. 85, 101–102, 104, 163, 187 Worcester 147, 216; Chief Constable 147, 216 Worker’s National Committee 41, 45 Workers’ National Committee 41, 45, 48 Workers’ National Committee 41, 45, 48 Workhouse 87, 128 Working class families 36 Working class households 31, 50, 110 Working class values 55 Working class women 35–36, 38, 56–57, 163 Working-class habits 232 Working-class lifestyle 232 Working-class youth 232, 234, 243; the good 233 World War One centralisation in 19 Wrexham 116 Wusson, H. 58, 60 Wynn, S. 188 Xenophobia 166, 241 Yorkshire Evening Post 137 Yorkshire Post and Leeds Intelligencer 210 Young offenders 230, 240 Young women and girls 8, 164, 169, 266 Young, M. 28, 103, 105, 119 Youth clubs 234 Youth crime 230–246, 265; increase 9, 236; discourse of 9, 230–231, 267; control of 243 Youth offending 230 Youthful crime 231 Youthful offender 9, 275; reform 235, 239