Sir John Fielding

Sir John Fielding. Ever heard of him? He was the younger half-brother of Henry Fielding, author of Tom Jones. Both those Fielding brothers were interesting guys. Henry, in addition to being “the first major novelist to openly admit that his prose fiction was pure artefact,” was London’s Chief Magistrate. This, in the 1750s, meant that he was something like a police chief, except that there were no police. Other European countries at least had standing armies that kept some semblance of order in the streets, but England had not been invaded since William the Conqueror; furthermore, the British were afraid that the presence of a police force would erode their freedom, such as it was. Add to that widespread poverty and the huge popularity of a new drug beverage called crack gin, and you’ve got a recipe for disaster.

Yes, crime was rampant in those days, and it was Henry Fielding who finally took matters in hand. As Chief Magistrate, he founded the Bow Street Runners, the world’s first municipal police force. And guess what? Crime fighting turned out to be a piece of cake! The bad guys were so complacent — why bother to cover your tracks if no one is going to come after you? — that the Runners made a clean sweep of the city in a very short time and still had half their budget left. Henry also was a tireless advocate for prison reform and the abolition of public hangings.

When Henry died, a few years after becoming Magistrate, his brother John took over the job. Sir John was every bit as effective as Henry in terms of wiping out crime and advocating for humane treatment of convicts. And oh, did I mention? Sir John was also blind. Blind in an age where there was no such thing as books on tape, nor even Braille. Yet Sir John went to law school and ran a business, and of course was the chief of police. Supposedly he was able to recognize several thousand criminals by the sound of their voices alone. He was a social reformer too, and also introduced the idea of cops keeping records, making WANTED posters, etc. Pretty amazing. “Beak,” by the way, was slang for boss or chief.

Hat tip to Steve, who gave me one of his class handouts, excerpts from a book called Clues! A History of Forensic Detection, when he learned of my interest in Sir John. Thanks, honey!