Two Cups of Tea at Hope’s Café
Recently as I sat on my front porch watching twilight become starlight, I could imagine a Night Watchman calling out “8 O’clock and All’s Well” to this sleepy little settlement. Peace drifted over our tiny corner of the world, a small cluster of houses on a dead end residential area inhabited largely by retirees.
My curiosity was sparked by this image and I went in search of information about that practice. The night watchman system originated in 1285 when King Charles I instituted a “watch and ward” program. This required every community to patrol their streets at night from 10 p.m. to dawn. All male householders were on a rotation to provide such protection, an initially unpaid duty. The watchmen’s duties included crime and fire prevention, waking people who needed to rise early, calling out the time and weather, and helping drunks home. Men could avoid their duty by paying a fine or hiring a deputy, according to Historical Hearts blog. Watchmen worked in shifts as pairs, carrying a lantern and a staff and later on a “clapper” to call for help from another watchman. They patrolled once to call out the time and a second time silently. Otherwise they were in watch boxes where they had a good view of the street. We might think of this as the earliest “Neighborhood Watch” program that exists today.
Eventually this became a paid position, though the salary was minimal and as such tended to attract folks least able to fulfill the obligations of the job. The position became ridiculed as a job filled by the most inept. But once crime became a larger and more menacing issue in London, the government began a process that would ultimately develop into a formalized police force. People had resisted this, believing this to be an additional expense that might encroach on their liberty. But public sentiment shifted to support this effort.
Though the night watchman program was abolished once a formal police organization was in place, it was revived in England in World War II. Patrolmen guarded factories against sabotage, espionage and theft. They were on watch to spot fires started by the falling of bombs, to scan the skies for German parachutists and to ensure strict blackouts were observed so no light would aid the Luftwaffe.
I wonder what role a night watchman might serve today and who might dare to apply. The tasks would be overwhelming. One might be inclined to never leave one’s watch box.
But here’s the thing: night is not endless even when it seems so. I recall a story I heard on the radio this past September 11 when memories of September 11, 2001 were being featured on the radio. A fire chief who had been leading people to safety as the towers were coming down found himself and his little band of survivors in utter darkness when Tower II gave way to utter collapse. But when he finally oriented himself he noticed one tiny shard of light. They all began digging towards it and thus found their means of escape. In our current situation here and around the world I refer us to that ancient Greek philosopher Aristotle: ““It is during our darkest moments that we must focus to see the light.”
May we bearers of hope, the “wait staff” at Hope’s Café, for each other and all those we encounter. Shalom, Kate
