When we look for our criminal ancestors, it can be tempting to go for the records of serious offences. Yet for me, it’s at the bottom of the criminal justice ladder that things get interesting. My PhD looked at the cases that came before provincial magistrates at summary proceedings – the precursor of petty sessions – between the 1770s and 1830s, and these were a fascinating snapshot not only into the disputes our ancestors got into, but also what they can tell us about social and community lives at the time. Women commonly appeared having got into verbal disputes with neighbours (usually other women), although sometimes these disputes became physical. There were arguments and fights in pubs – the centres of their community – and opportunistic thefts (such as the stealing of clothes from washing lines). The survival of such records is patchy, but this adds to the sense of discovering something that fewer people have come across when you do find them.

Recently, I spent time at the Bodleian Library in Oxford, looking at another resource for researching criminal ancestors. These are the report books of the Oxford University Police; I was looking at the period from 1849 to 1854, but they have a series of such reports, covering a far longer period of time. In these books, an entry was made at the end of each night shift, usually by inspector Abner Savage. Savage was originally a baker, but at the age of 30, he was imprisoned in Oxford Prison as a debtor. It may seem surprising that, having been imprisoned himself, Abner would then join the police – but he did so, and made a good career from it.

The University Police was a private force, which patrolled both the university precincts and an area of four miles around any university building. They had full powers of arrest and were aided by the university proctors – senior officers responsible for discipline. The University Police Station was on Broad Street, in the centre of Oxford. It was from here that Savage sent out his men each night, and here that they would bring back miscreants to be dealt with: when they did so, Abner invariably referred to the station as ‘the rooms’ – so they would be bringing an individual ‘back to the rooms’. It’s clear from these mid-century books that there was a clear division between the exploits of the university undergraduates and those of other Oxford residents. The records note frequent ‘japes’ by students, such as knocking on people’s doors and running away, or noisiness in town. In such cases, the most common course of action was for a police officer to discretely follow the undergraduates back to their halls and report them to the college porters.

Inequality
There is a clear difference shown between how male students and the women they come across are treated by the police. There are multiple references in the books to ‘common women’, which is a euphemism for prostitute, but seems to cover a wider range of activity than simply soliciting. Most women named in the books have ‘common woman’ added, to make clear their status in local society. Some names appear frequently, such as the Codles (which may be a misspelling of Caudwell, reflecting how it was pronounced locally). Mary, Elizabeth and Charlotte Codle regularly appear in the books, although primarily for ‘refusing to get off the streets’ at night when asked, for causing a noise in the streets or, in one case, being seen leaving a pub after hours with a can of beer in hand.

Although it has been assumed that these women were prostitutes, there is also evidence they were described as such because they were living with men outside of marriage. Certainly, this was the case with Emma Cooper, who was cautioned for talking to a member of the university in Radcliffe Square at 9.45pm on 19 April 1850. It was also the case with Martha Drury and Elizabeth Bridgwater, who had both been accused of robbery the same year. These women had worked as servants and dressmakers, and lived in the poorer districts of the city, such as in the now-demolished yards off St Giles, or the Hollybush Row area of St Thomas’s.

But as Emma Cooper’s case shows, these ‘common women’ were also picked up for talking to university students. There are many references to women being seen ‘in company with a member of the university’, or simply talking to one. The implication is that they were soliciting these men, although they were apprehended before anything happens. Clearly, the city’s prostitutes had a good market among the university students; under Victorian double standards, it was accepted that young men would and could sow their oats before settling down to married life, whereas women were expected to remain virtuous until their wedding day. Therefore, when a young man went to university in a city where there were prostitutes working, he joined an eager clientele, and the women had a good market for their services. However, when local women were found talking to these students, it was the former who were taken back to the police station and cautioned, not the men. The police would call to the university proctors to help decide what to do with these individuals – most commonly, they would simply be cautioned and discharged.

Abner’s report books never name individual officers who were on the beat each night – they are simply referred to by their officer number. However, the 1851 census records Abner at the University Police Station, and shows that his officers ranged in age from their early 20s to early 50s, and were largely from Oxfordshire. Some of these men reported their colleagues for failing to do their job properly; there are several references to the officers, who worked night shifts that ended at 5am, falling asleep on the job. Sometimes, their shift could also be boring, with Abner recording that it had been ‘a quiet night’ for his men. These officers were sent to various beats around the city, including the parks, which must have been quite isolated and dark places to be stationed in Victorian times. However, there was usually another officer nearby, and Abner notes occasions where one policeman had left his post in order to help another (conversely, he also records two more officers being found having a drink in a pub, despite being on duty).

Although some of the men and women mentioned in the police books only committed mischievous acts, or were discharged on appearance in the police rooms, others did go onto be ‘disciplined’ or face the courts. Fanny Wale, 21, was recorded by Abner Savage as refusing to leave the streets twice within a week in 1850. On both these occasions, she was cautioned and discharged, but four months later, she was accused of stealing money from a drunk man who she had taken back to her room in Hollybush Row. She would be sent to the penitentiary on Brewer’s Street in Oxford. Both Alice Lindsey and Maria Stone were charged with larceny from the person in 1850; Maria was discharged after the prosecutor failed to turn up to court, but Alice was unlucky. She was convicted and sentenced to ten years’ transportation. However, by this point, few convicts were actually being transported, and the 1851 census records Alice instead as a prisoner in Millbank Prison.

The police report books are revealing about the social and criminal history of Oxford in the mid-19th century. They show relationships between town and gown, and also what seem to us today to be strikingly uneven attitudes towards individuals and their behaviour, depending on whether they were students or locals. Although they show people out enjoying themselves – drinking, socialising with friends – they also show how people’s behaviour was monitored. Women drinking, talking to men, or just being out on the streets at night was a cause of suspicion, and warranted action. It’s clear that to get a full understanding of policing and crime in the Victorian city, a wealth of archival documents should be looked at, from trial reports to these fascinating police records.