Chapter 2257 - 266: In Britain’s Policing System, Arthur Hastings Is God

The new "English Poor Laws" are not dangerous because of their original intent, but because their implementation turned social reform into a matter of morality and order. Legislators hoped to correct dependence through the new laws, yet underestimated the anger and humiliation that poverty itself carries. When relief is designed as punishment and survival has conditions attached, inevitably, the system needs the police to maintain its operation. Since 1832, the police department has once again been systematically pushed to the forefront of social conflicts, facing severe tests reminiscent of the era before 1829.

——Arthur Hastings "Hastings’ Memoirs: Fifty Years of Life"

No fireplace existed in the meeting room of the Police Commissioner Committee at 4 Whitehall, only a long table polished to a shine.

The curtains were drawn tightly, keeping the noise from the street outside at bay behind heavy fabric.

Arthur sat at the head of the table, without perusing documents, nor did he speak.

He simply leaned back in his chair, with a cigar burning at his fingertips, releasing a blue-white smoke that rose and fell with his breath.

Slowly moving his gaze down the long table, sitting beside Arthur were two old acquaintances of the group, Greater London Police Department’s Minister Charles Rowan and Deputy Minister Richard Mayne.

But looking past them, sat a dozen or so unfamiliar faces rarely seen in London.

Their uniforms were not completely consistent, yet revealed a tacit homogeneity in their details. The deep blue frock coat modeled after Scotland Yard’s design was thick and crisp, with tailoring noticeably more fitted than that of ordinary patrolmen. Narrow silver trims sewn at the cuffs, while not ostentatious, were enough to immediately distinguish a commander from an operator.

None wore police helmets; instead, cylindrical top hats were placed neatly on the tabletop before them, with brims polished bright and hatbands discreet and clean. Some left their officer’s swords at the door, while others brought them inside, with sword hilts resting against chair sides, neither flaunted nor deliberately avoided—a poised demeanor accustomed to the presence of lawful force.

The police officer sitting next to Rowan sat straight, with hands clasped at the table’s edge, gloves still on. This bore the characteristic bearing of port city police, who, owing to frequent interactions at docks with workers, sailors, and the unemployed, appeared more aged than their actual years due to the sea wind’s erosion. His uniform bore no military-style decorations on its shoulders, yet the fabric showed wear under the lights, revealing it as a frequently worn work garment rather than a ceremonial coat.

Further down, another officer appeared exceptionally restrained. His coat color was slightly darker, nearly nightlike, with buttons arranged meticulously, and sleeves so unruffled as though he hadn’t just rushed in from afar. His hair was neatly groomed, sideburns trimmed clean, and sitting upright exuded an extraordinary sternness even without uttering a word.

Opposite him sat one with more explicit Northern vibes. Broad shoulder and thick neck, his uniform’s fabric was thicker than others, with the collar showing slight fraying. This was not due to neglect but rather a wear formed from longstanding exposure to cold winds and jostling. His hands rested on his knees, knuckles slightly bulky – evidently, he’s been to the street more than once personally. Even when seated, his body remained slightly forward-leaning, like always ready to intervene in something.

Further down the row, another existed who seemed somewhat different from the rest. While not lacking in attire, missing was the sharp edge characteristic of police officers. His coat style was more conservative, with almost imperceptible adornments, seemingly deliberately avoiding any symbols that might be mistaken for "new authority". He carried neither a sword nor a handgun, even his police helmet looked slightly outdated—a unique presence mingling between old law-and-order systems and new police standards, seemingly unready to embrace the new era entirely.

Arthur’s gaze finally fell towards the tabletop.

The row of brass nameplates equally polished clean were slightly rounded at the corners, evidently not placed temporarily today. Lettering was simple and restrained, offering no unnecessary titles beyond essential positions, as if the names themselves required no further explanation.

Liverpool City Police Department Police Chief: John Ball.

Bristol City Police Department Police Chief: Joseph Bishop.

Kingston City Police Department Police Chief: Alexander McMannus.

Leicester City Police Station Police Chief: Frederick Goodie.

Newport City Police Department Police Chief: John Redman.

...

Though these police officers seldom appeared in London, and many young recruits just joining position at Scotland Yard might not recognize them solely by their various uniforms as fellow colleagues; for veterans like Arthur who joined Scotland Yard in 1829, identification required no uniform.

Because among these newly established autonomous municipal police stations, more than half of the senior officers were once fundamental forces of Scotland Yard.

Take Leicester’s Frederick Goodie for example, the Leicester police head born in 1808, although older than Arthur in age, joined Scotland Yard two years later than Arthur. As a junior who joined Scotland Yard on October 23, 1831, holding commission No. 11051, whether in rank or in service years, Goodie dared not act superior before Arthur, who possessed commission No. 986.