A file at the National Archives at Kew in west London shows the earliest use of the term ‘security officer’ in the civil service – better rendered as ‘security manager’.
In the file Work 19/1365, a solicitor wrote in December 1967 on the legal position of the ‘security officer’ (in fact not an officer in the 21st century sense of a front-line worker, but meaning chief of security) at Hampton Court Palace. The state, the Office of Works, looked after such royal palaces. A security officer was responsible for premises such as the west London palace, and the staff under his control. He ‘would have only the powers available to every citizen for dealing with intruders unless he was appointed a constable which I suppose might be a possibility’. Unless he were a constable in his own right, the solicitor went on, he would be wise to obtain the assistance of the police whenever it was necessary to deal with an intruder. ‘I am not clear,’ the solicitor went on, ‘that the security officer would have any power to detain an intruder in the absence of evidence that the latter [intruder] had committed or was seeking to commit an offence.’
The Tower of London yeomen warders were sworn in as special constables, shortly after appointment. The royal palaces were wondering if security officers could become special constables through the Royal Parks. Then as park-keepers they would come under the parks Regulations Act 1872.
By December 1967 the Ministry of Works (part of the Department of the Environment) was employing a security officer, also called a security adviser, Mr Isherwood, who had raised the legal positions, who supervised night watchmen. The duties of that Hampton Court security officer were set out in a typed page in December 1967, one of the earliest of its kind. It began; ‘…. to advise on the selection and putting into practice the agreed methods for the physical protection of the palace and its contents from criminal attack and destruction or damage by fire.’ Added in pencil was; ‘he will make recommendations as regards any changes in these methods that he may consider desirable’. From the start, then, security was not static, but had to react to a changing world.
He was responsible for the supervision and discipline of all staff on security duties; he would liaise with local police and fire brigade and civil defence (which was about to be wound down by the Labour government); organise fire equipment inspections; and liaise with the works officers on any building work, ‘so that adequate security arrangements can be initiated where necessary’. A monthly progress report would go to the supervising manager AW Allan, who signed off the duties document.
The security manager had to ensure that the security alarm system functioned efficiently. Mr Isherwood was evidently new in the security job because he was moving into a fire officer’s duty rooms. And a new control centre was in Tennis Court lane, taking space out of the engineers’ workshop and a store. Security guards had a welfare room, and a new toilet (which was to have buff quarry tiles on the floor, a water closet, a steel urinal for two men, and a wash basin. That work including central heating was completed in the winter of 1967-8.
The control centre had telephone lines; a glass fronted wall key case, to house duplicate keys to the residences, and a separate case for duplicate keys to state apartments; and a wall chart of the occupied, ‘grace and favour’ residences. The work cost in all £15,000, about ten times the cost of an ordinary house. The works department was considering a self-monitoring fire alarm system (proposed cost £10,500) and a guard patrol record system (£9000).
A hand-written Ministry of Works memo of August 1967 reported that Chief Supt Stanning, a ‘security expert’ from Scotland Yard, was called in to investigate ‘the present conditions’ and to make ‘appropriate recommendations’ on Hampton Court’s security. He had recommended the central control room and the appointment of a security officer in charge, responsible to the depot superintendent. Stanning had suggested that the control centre take over the fire station temporarily, but that was ‘considered to be not entirely safe from intruder attack’. The post of security manager at Hampton Court had arisen because of ‘incidents’ as the file put it. Recruitment in August 1967 had been slow, because it had to be agreed with the Treasury; and go through the Civil Service Commission. Candidates had appeared before a selection board.
In August 1967, Miss MEI Waterman of the Ministry of Works wrote to the Treasury about the ‘dilemma’ over security. “Some years ago we replaced the locally recruited and ineffective night watchmen at Hampton Court by staff from the Ministry’s general custody services but we remained uneasy about the security measures. Our concern is two-fold. We wish to avoid risk of damage to the very important buildings and audacious thefts from museums and art galleries have increased our anxiety about the safety of the valuable pictures and furnishings on display to the public in the State Apartments. Because of the age, position and character of the Palace there is a considerable fire hazard and risk from vandals: the contents, the property of the Sovereign, have an intrinsic value quite apart from their royal association.’
A report by Stanning from 1965 was ‘comprehensive and most valuable’, and ‘mostly endorsed’ by the works department on the spot. As for the control centre, Stanning ‘expected this to lead to an eventual economy in the use of manpower especially on the fire-fighting side’. The self-monitoring fire alarm would enable the Ministry to dispense with the private fire service and rely on the local fire brigade.
As for the four recent ‘incidents’: all were of thefts, and two included intrusions into the private courtyards; in one case an old lady was knocked down. St James’ Palace had a similar problem with the storing of church plate, also condemned by Stanning. And after an intrusion at Kensington Palace, the ministry was proposing to spend £3000 on greater security.
Miss Waterman was acting on a July 1967 letter from Major R Mawdsley of the Privy Purse Office at Buckingham Palace, to her, that began: “I have had a letter from General [Sir Charles?] Harvey stating that he is more and more worried about security arrangements at Hampton Court Palace. There have been a number of incidents lately. Miss Preston who lives with her mother in apartment number six found two youths in the apartment pretending they had lost their way and after they had gone she found her watch and several other items had been stolen. Mrs Mallaby who occupies apartment number 15 found three teenagers in her inner courtyard. When she went out to speak to them they knocked her down and ran away. She telephoned the guard but they had left the Palace.”
In the cafeteria one night the cash-box had been prised open with a garden fork, stolen from the general’s tool-shed.
All was not well among the guards. An investigation in the summer of 1967 of a named night watchman found that the guards were evidently clocking on using a tape system according to a duty rota. One night, the State Apartments were left unattended for 18 minutes; ‘presumably so the guard could have a cigarette’.
The Lord Chamberlain’s Office wrote to Miss Waterman in June 1967, appreciating that appointing the security man at Hampton Court was ‘intractable’. The Office asked for a line from Waterman, ‘to pacify the General’, who presumably was angry while nothing was done.
Waterman separately in June 1967 in a memo described the estimate of £5400 for work at Hampton Court as ‘staggering’. As for St James’ Palace, the cost of security for the gold plate was put at £3100. Buckingham Palace said that they could not find the money; the Ministry of Works would have to find the money. As the file put it, ‘but it will have to wait until next year’.
Allan likewise in a hand-written note of April 1967 described the security costs as ‘a little frightening’. Like Waterman, he proposed spreading the costs over years, although sensibly he proposed not to go into the details of the new fire alarm, until the new security officer made his own recommendations.
The Treasury wrote in April 1967 that having given authority for a new post, of Hampton Court security officer, it assumed the candidates would be ‘aged about 45 to 50’ and should ‘keep abreast of developments in security techniques’.
Meanwhile a senior surveyor reported that month that Hampton Court’s water supply system was ‘grossly inadequate and ageing’, meaning that security and fire weren’t the only things out of date at the palace. An engineer, FH Cone, in a long report on Hampton Court in July 1966, proposed walkie-talkie radios, because the surveyor reported ‘a good deal of looseness in the security watching was engendered by the necessity of being remote from the Guardroom and quite out of touch in very eerie surroundings’. The surveyor hoped that the new security chief would be ‘a man of considerable police experience’.
The Treasury also assumed that the new man would be ‘on all fours with the security officer post at the National Maritime Museum [at Greenwich] who is also formally responsible for security to the Heads of the Museum’. As this file shows that it took years for anything to happen, the slowness and inefficiency was general to public service; Hampton Court residents who applied for a telephone were like anyone else faced with a ‘lengthy waiting period’ from the Post Office (then in charge of the nationalised, pre-privatised telephones), according to a letter of January 1967.
A Major Udell was already in charge of ‘custody services’ – we might think of them as gallery attendents at the Minsitry of Works, based at offices at Waterloo in central London. In January 1967 Hampton Court wrote to Udell asking for seven more clocking points, for guards to clock on and off. That would make 15; bearing in mind the increase in theft and ‘wanton damage’.
The Ministry in Edinburgh wrote about the proposed Hampton Court security officer also in January 1967; ‘I gather that some marauder was discovered inside Holyrood the other night. No doubt he had come up from Hampton Court having been frightened by your new security officer,’ an official joked.
As a sign of how hard it was to get anything done at the ministry, that official wrote to a colleague in London in December 1966, about the security officer earning a proposed £1525 in his first year. “You cannot possibly hide your light under a bushel in this way and I should be most grateful to hear from you precisely how you managed to pull this one off.’ The London official’s draft reply explained about the concern about the safety of exhibits after thefts from museums and galleries: “Major Udell who is responsible for the Ministry’s night watchmen was precluded by the other tasks in London [he had 180 buildings in London to look after] from giving appropriate supervision at a post so far away as Hampton Court Palace.”
The State Apartments there evidently had wardens, and a chief warden, because the Lord Chamberlain’s Office wrote from St James’ Palace to the ministry in December 1966 that ‘Sir Charles Harvey who frequently visits the State Apartments tells me that he invariably finds the wardens conscientious in their duties and in particular has a high regard for the Chief Warden.’ Another, longer letter that month discussed how to record that a painting had been taken away. A counterfoil book was proposed and a note sent to the chief warden, who would then give out a standard notice; otherwise a thief could put up a written notice and it might not be noticed.
“Without making allegations,” the Lord Chamberlain’s official went on, “on a visit to Hampton Court Palace a while ago we found hardly a warden on duty until the word got around that we were on the premises when we found a zealous attendant in every room. A resident security officer making unexpected checks could ensure that the time and duty rosters were observed.”
The official passed on other proposals: not to allow contractors’ lorries and vans to park in Tennis Court Lane, ‘since this gives great facilities for thieving’. “Sir Charles Harvey feels that the growth of unruliness necessitates patrolmen walking in pairs during the summer months and on bank holidays or single patrolmen having walkie-talkie sets.’ The official acknowledged that residents themselves might endanger the security of Hampton Court, and proposed that staff inspect residences ‘from a security standpoint’.
One of the greatest potential dangers to the works of art came from schoolchildren, ‘who flock to the Palace often without adequate control’.
The resident superintendent at Hampton Court, EJF Robinson, complained in a memo of October 1966 that he was still without blinds for his office, though he had asked three times since December 1963, ‘on the grounds of security when dealing with cash’. Money was counted every day in his office and the public was frequently passing, ‘and are able to see the large sums of money on the table’.
The director of works for London, GL Wraige, reported on a visit to Hampton Court in May 1966. The 29 warders were ‘mostly pensioners from the police or fighting services. The majority are over 60 years of age.’ Wraige listed the hazards to the building and contents: from fire, water, ‘from whatever source’, unauthorised entry, theft and malicious damage; ‘probably the most devastating may be fire and or water damage. Our security arrangements should guard against all the above listed risks’.
Wraige described the out of hours fire service as ‘loose’, as a volunteer fire brigade and fire officer did not have to be available during the silent hours. The fire control room was continuously manned, ‘but it is difficult to escape the conclusion that their sole function in an emergency is to summon the fire brigade and one wonders why the fire alarm signalling system should not be direct to the local fire brigade who in any event would be the only people competent to deal with it in a matter of minutes.’ Wraige agreed to the need for a security officer; and doing away with the fire officer and four industrial firemen.
Wraige suggested that responsibility for security at comparable places in London such as Windsor Castle and Buckingham Palace was the superintendent; while the Towr of London had the resident governor.
The chief steward at Hampton Court was Sir Charles Harvey; as a Palace official, he looked after the residents; the Privy Purse managed the ‘grace and favour’ residences, while the Lord Chamberlain’s Office managed the State Apartments. No-one was claiming responsibility for security. Wraige ended by hinting that an embarrassment was waiting to happen: “I do not think it can be doubted that if there were a major loss from Hampton Court Palace a good deal of the arrangements at present existing would make very sorry reading at the subsequent inquiry.”
The security shortcomings were well known; in February 1966 the Ministry of Works pointed out that the greatest threat to security was from having the Trophy Gates open at night.
The security adviser Jack Mannings made a (typed) security survey of Hampton Court dated January 1966. The public was admitted every day except three a year. The ‘grace and favour’ apartments were granted by the Queen , to ‘deserving widows’. Mannings recalled a resident once died in a fire. Mannings had visited Hampton Court ‘on about 11 occasions’: ‘my first impression was that security is weakened by the division of responsibility now operating’. Mannings listed the risk of theft and dangers of damage by fire, water or vandalism; ‘the best protection against all possible risk is manual patrolling and it is essential that this is carried out regularly and conscientiously and that at night time the periods between the different patrols are reduced to a minimum. The present system of night patrolling is inadequate.’
Many rooms had guide ropes on staunchions, to encourage the public to keep a distance; some rooms were without. Many walls were covered with expensive damask. Mannings proposed more glass on walls by doors and glazing of paintings (as many were unglazed). As a general principle of security on small paintings and works of art, they should not be easily accessible to visitors, he wrote, ‘as many are at present’. He gave the example of Wolsey Rooms, as isolated, as exposed to greater risk. On his tour of inspection, Mannings found an empty picture frame; which showed a frame did not always have an official label to say it had been taken away. Mannings asked the warder about the empty frame who said he didn’t know why it was missing, although it was removed weeks before.
The general upkeep of doors and windows was good. While Mannings was surveying, scaffolding was around some of the Palace, for maintenance, which would have been useful for forcing an entrance. As for private contractors parking in Tennis Court Lane, instructions were issued to custody guards, to state that lorries and vans should be sent to the official car park; in other words, the instructions had to be enforced. Warding staff were under the resident depot superintendent EJF Robinson; under him was a superintending warder; two assistants, and 26 regular warders and five part-time supernumaries; and more were engaged in the summer. Each was given a whistle. They had a mess room in the State Apartments, and a smoke room off the north cloister. They did not have a telephone; a public telephone was in the mess room, in a box locked by day. Shifts overlapped, depending on the season; starting at 9.15am to 4.15pm, 5.15pm or 6.15pm.
A morning break was of ten minutes, a midday break was 40 minutes in the summer and one hour in the winter; then came an afternoon break of 20 minutes. Numbers of warders were, Mannings reported, ‘reasonable to provide adequate security during the winter months providing the warding staff do not remain in one spot but actively patrol their allotted areas. This calls for constant supervision.’ Mannings was told it was hard to fill summer extra patrol jobs; ‘if men are not available,’ Mannings said, ‘I see no objection to suitable women being employed.’
Two custody guards were in a guard room, from 8am to 5.15pm; then they were relieved by three guards to 8am, who patrolled ‘during the night recording their progress at eight points by means of a time clock. They also make telephone calls to the custody services headquarters at two hour intervals’ or four-hour intervals at the weekend.
An extra guard was locked into the State Apartments from 5pm to 8am, who made patrols recorded on a time clock; that guared also rang headquarters from the telephone in the mess room. Another guard visited at 9pm, 11pm, 2.30am and 3.30am. A guard visited at 4am to help open the shutters and raise the blinds. Each guard was issued with a booklet setting out their duties.
Each patrol could take 40 minutes, but with the checks of doors and windows it could take 60 to 90 minutes. The clock tapes showed that many patrols were ‘completed in well under an hour’, presumably so that the guard could go back inside. Mannings called the patrolling ‘hurried’, and the supervision ‘unsatisfactory’ because Robinson examined the clock tapes each day; but any complaints had to go to Udell.
Hampton Court had a small fire station with a hand-cart with equipment to start containing a fire; the local fire station at Twickenham was seven minutes away. Uniformed park-keepers, an inspector, two sergeants and 29 park-keepers including three women, had police powers and patrolled all year.
Outside caterers wanted to open in the evenings for private functions and Mannings saw no security risk if two park-keepers remained on duty. He recommended ‘ample’ illumination to the perimeter, as ‘a deterrent to thieves’ and that would ‘give a measure of protection to the outside patrolling staff’.
Mannings made some detailed recommendations about some doors. He described some check on movement by night as essential, but ‘a haphazard affair and it is unusual for any person entering the Palace grounds to be challenged during the hours of darkness’.
The guard room was inadequate as an observation post, and Mannings recommended an observation post near the west front to check on all those entering the grounds in the dark. And as he put it, ‘there is ample time for additional patrolling’. Having done his survey in the last months of 1965, Mannings’ main conclusion was that ‘security is weakened by the division of responsibility’; that is, not due to any missing or faulty piece of physical or electrical equipment. The warding staff were responsible to Mr Robinson, the custody staff to Udell; other men were responsible for fire precautions and fire equipment, and the park-keepers. Mannings wished for a ‘centralisation’ under a ‘senior official’, and a control room manned at all times ‘will allow a general reorganisation which should result in more economical use of the manpower available’.
Mannings ended with 24 recommendations. About half were physical, such as additional illumination to the perimeter and issue of master keys to be kept to a minimum. All security staff should be given instruction in fire drill; and firstly, ‘more frequent patrolling’.
The Met Police had appointed a security adviser in 1962, doing surveys in London. One of the national museums and galleries only finished in the summer of 1966. Mannings had been that adviser; having gone over to the museums, Det Chief Supt SF Newman had taken over.
Written instructions for custody guards survive, signed by Udell and dated May 1965, that went into some detail. The guard in the State Apartments, for example, was to let in the cleaners at 6.15am. The instructions said when to switch on and off the lights; dusk and dawn, outside the lift leading to Lady Ironside’s apartment, and at the staircase leading to Lady Chalmondeley’s apartment. Visitors’ dogs were only allowed on leads; no radios; and sketching was only by permission.
A little booklet of duties and responsibilities of custody guards, published by the Ministry of Works, and dated February 1965, covered all central government buildings. It began by stating that it was ‘essential that you perform your duties with diligence and a keen sense of responsibility’. The state of mind, therefore, mattered, such as the ability to remain alert, besides physical actions such as checking all windows on the first patrol; and ringing 999 if any intruders were apprehended.
“You are to make every effort to detain intruders until the police arrive to take over responsibility for them,” the instructions ran. Sleeping on the job and smoking were ‘absolutely forbidden’; as were admission of friends to the building or using official stationery. A guard was to report accidents, fires and flooding to headquarters, and always to carry their official pass on duty. The guard was to keep his uniform clean and tidy (‘property of the government’, to be returned to headquarters when they resigned). He was always to carry his whistle and truncheon; and not to use the telephone for personal calls.
Four of the 20 pages were given over to instructions for dealing with fire. The guard was supposed to close doors of the room with a fire, and dial 999; unlock a door or gate, and be prepared to let the fire brigade in. This ‘first aid action’ to restrict a fire was ‘merely the action of any person with common sense’.
