The sun. [volume] (Morris, Stevens County, Minn.) 1882-1895, 1886-06-24
THE PARIS POLiCx.
Comparatively Helpless I'm the Pres
ence of an Appalling Amount
of Crime.

of Crime.
The criminal record of the past win
ter shows that the police department of
Paris is comparatively helpless. writes
correspondent of the The San Fran
cisco Chronicle. Murders occur with
terrible frequency, and not only are the
murderers not arrested, but there seems
no clue whatever to their identity. /
have heard the criminal classes of Paris
estimated at 200, ,O00. which is not prob
ably an exaggerated figure, and this I'M
mense number is constantly under sur
surveillance, or is supposed at least to
be known to the police. The task is
herculean. It is probably because the
police attempts too much that it ac-
complishes so little. Whatever the ex-
cuse may be. it is sufficient to satisfy
those who wish to see justice follow
closely on the heels of crime Tho GRIM
inal classes in London may or may not
be proportionately as numerous as those
of Paris. But brutal as the class is, it
is yet true that there are not half the
murders among the five millions of that
city that there are among the two mil
lions of this, and a murderer rarely es-
capes arrest and punishment. OF those
who have committed murders on
English railway trains not one has es-
capped detection. Murderers of the
same class in France have been twice
as numerous during the last twenty
years, and few of the perpetrators have
ever been discovered. There must be
reasons for this which inhere in the po-
lice systems of the two countries. In
London the preservation of order is in
trusted to a uniformed force, supple
mented by a secret service that assists
in ferreting out mysterious crimes.
There is no general system of espion-
age. In Paris there are the uniformed
police agents whom one sees every
where, and an army of police spies
whose numbers can never be known
but who must be legion, and whose
place is everywhere. There are also
the gems d'armes, who are sort of
police soldiery who perform special
duty, and who can be called on in an
emergency.
The ordinary Paris agents de police,
or policemen, are neatly uniformed in
blue, with military cap and long over
coat in winter. Most of them have
been soldiers, and they are selected
for their height, erectness, and militia
ry bearing. They have certain air of
dignity which seems to render them un-
approachable, but if addressed politely
they are usually amiable and impart
all the information in their power. Lift
your hand to one of them when you
wish favor and you will find him de-
voted to your service. They pace the
streets in an erect and methodical way,
not allowing their attention to be dis
tracted by any disorder that does not
amount to a genuine disturbance. An
English or American policeman rushes
in everywhere where the peace threat
ems to be broken, and is the first on
hand TO assist in case of accident The
Paris policeman seems to have no in
structions of this kind. He waits till
the peace is actually broken, and if
there is runaway he permits private
citizens to pick up the wounded and
gather together the shattered remnants
of the vehicle. His military stiffness
prevents his pursuing thief with indie
cOrous speed. He nevertheless quick
ems his pace, at the same time raising
the cry, 'Stop, thief!'' when perhaps
some law-abiding person interposes, or
some nimble pedestrian joins in the
chase and effects the capture. Very
little Of the espionage, or dirty work,
falls to his share. This is done by the
secret agents, called agents de nsoeurs,
or by other names, by the department,
but mouchards by other citizens who
detest them thoroughly. They are al
ways in citizens dress, but have a
badge of authority, which they show
when necessary. TO better perform
their work they assume the blouse of
the laborer, the dress of priests, the
white aprons of cooks and garcons, the
silk hat, portfolio. and thoughtful air
of the lawyer or lawyers clerk, or the
garb of mendicity. Their business is
to watch the criminal classes, and to
keep the morals of the city pure. They
have the entry of all houses of bad re-
pute without other legal authorization
than their official position. The mouch-
ard is considered by the honest classes
of Paris as no better than black
mailer, who will let anyone whom he
has arrested escape for gratuity-that
is, if the arrest has not been effected
under such conditions of publicity as
render it impossible. He and his call
ing are therefore looked upon as simply
infamous.
But though the naouc]bGrds are num-
bered by thousands, and though they
are omnipresent, they have the assist
ance of another class still lower and
baser. These are the mout0ns The
mouto'a is usually discharged criminal,
who is allowed to cooperate with the
as he can about other criminals, or aid
ing him in the espionage of people in
respectable positions who it is thought
need watching. 1t is hardly necessary
to say that no mouton will ever betray
any one to the police, no matter what
the offense may be, if he can make any
money out of the offender. Not only
do they as class constantly try to ex-
tort money, but the quasi-official pro-
lection which they receive allows them
to continue career of fraud and rob-
berry which the police either ignore or
condone. A portion of the nsoucAards,
all the aaoutons, the professional black
mailers, and the class that depends on
the wages of prostitution are therefore
closely connected together. They aid,
protect, and conceal one another, and
this result comes naturally from a
police system in which secret espionage
that confounds great crimes with small
play SO important part. The police
system of Paris, far the most costly in
the world, must be judged by its fruits,
and those fruits are the constant in
crease of all kinds of crime. especially
those of violence and murder. If some
thousands of those who are engaged in
watching the morals of the community.
not SO much with reference to their
purity as their own gain, were put
openly on the trail of a score of un-
known murderers of the past winter it
is possible q capture might be effected.
A Question of Quantity.
Some folks say I'm conceited," re-