18 
LAND 6? WATER 
August 29, 1918 
London's Chief Special Constable: By James Milne 
THE mission of the special constable is to come in 
when things are at a "push," and see'them through 
in a law and orderly way. 'He is the collective 
citizen "on his own," looking after the townhold, 
when the other constable is otherwise engaged. 
He is democracy on duty, a rather fine example, when you 
think him out, of our British system of governing ourselves 
by ourselves. Once — long years ago — he wore a tall hat, 
as the old prints tell ; and then, perhaps, he was something 
of a joke. To-day he makes his I,ondon beat in a uniform 
which says "Business is business," and we salute him. He 
was — he is ! 
it may be Providence, but 
Now, it may be. chance, 
this figure of the special 
constable is curiously pres- 
ent in the life, labours, and 
personality of his chief in 
London, Sir Edward Ward. 
Talk with him for an hour 
at Scotland House, on the 
Thames Embankment, the 
headquarters of the London 
"Specials," and such is the 
strongest impression you 
carry away. Quiet of 
-words, using few, and those 
simple, to tell much, 
humorous of eye, yet re- 
flective every minute, and 
so the resulting man of 
•character, big, mentally 
and physically, is this 
putter-through of things, 
including the organisation 
•of our extra-mural "bob- 
bies" — not at all an easy 
affair. 
One might almost say 
that Sir Edward Ward 
was born with the spirit of 
the perfect "Special," no 
matter what duty that 
"Special" happened to be 
called on for. He has 
flair, which means imagina- 
tion ; he has quick judg- 
ment, which is power of 
organisation ; he has pa- 
tience — oh, much patience ! 
— until he decides that he 
is up against dead-sea 
fruit ; and, above all, he has that touch of humanity which 
provides easy-going for whatever ship of venture he may be 
piloting. He knows that the real work of life, its real drama, 
liides behind the stage; that in the prompter's box there 
■dwells the secrets of what will be. A natural modesty — in 
truth, bashfulness — is the test of any good company of that 
Toyal box ; therefore, not many are chosen, but Sir Edward 
Ward has the quality. No doubt its possession stands 
between him and the everyman's-land of the forward foot- 
lights, only that would be unkindred country, and there is 
ever the amusing thought, "Wouldn't it be fun to switch off 
the current ? " 
Actually, Sir Edward's effort, all the twenty-four hours of 
day and night, is to keep that current strong, driving the 
various war organisations of which he is the presiding genius 
He is Director-General of Voluntary Organisations? the bodies 
which supply our soldiers and sailors with "comforts" got 
together by half a million British women in all ranks of life. 
The "-Pool" is the name, for short, because the trust refuses 
nothing ; and, because it gives everything, it is another 
" Pool " in the biblical sense of healing. 
Then Sir Edward is chairman of the Camps Library — the 
great organisation which collects and sends literature to all 
our fighting men, wherever they may be. He is also presi- 
dent, as well 'as the originator, of the Union Jack Club, which 
is one of the proudest possessions of the Army and Navy. 
There, in their thousands, our warriors can sleep and find 
rest, knowing they are beholden to no man's benevolence. 
Every sailor in the Navy, every soldier in the Army, has a 
right to use the club and call it his own, by virtue of the 
service he gives his country on sea and land. The King's 
uniform is his badge of membership. 
Sir Edward Ward is likewise the founder and chairman 
of the Union Jack Hostel, an annexe of the club, where the 
wives and children of the married soldier or sailor may stay 
and meet husbands and fathers back from foreign parts. 
The activities of this great, unpaid war-worker are, indeed, 
without end, and to them he brings all his training and 
experience of other years, as in the running of the once 
familiar and beloved Military Tournament or — a sharp 
contrast — in the feeding of Ladysmith during the siege and 
the filling of the stomach on which Earl Roberts's army 
marched to Pretoria. 
At that time he saw much of Kitchener, although he had 
met him earlier in Egypt. When Armageddon is over, 
"K. of K." is one of the 
figures who will rise dur- 
ably from its embers, be- 
cause he had the dowry of 
character, because he 
thought in the nation's 
welfare — not, selfishly, in 
his own. So, what manner 
of man did Sir Edward 
know in the tall, grim, 
six feet and more of 
Kitchener ? An excellent 
man to work with, one 
who knew what he wanted,, 
and when he got it ; a 
sympathetic man • — nay, 
even a charming man to- 
wards whoever did a job 
efficiently, strenuously. But 
if anybody shirked or was 
inefficient, possibly there 
was another Kitchener 
which Sir Edward had 
never met. Certainly the 
abiding air of severity 
attributed to Kitchener 
was apocryphal — did not 
exist. He was shy, like the 
"Iron Duke," he had little 
small talk ; but he was 
entirely human, and he 
was a great administrative 
soldier. 
It is a workable philo- 
sophy of hfe to hold that 
there are upperlings and 
underlings, and that both 
will find their right 
a simple generosity towards 
■ ounce out of your human > 
COLONEL SIR EDWARD WARD, K.C.B.^ 
Vandyk 
places. Vision, reticence, tact, 
others, the ability to get every 
material and improve it all the time — those are the things 
which make for the high seats of creation and command. 
Frame them in a camouflage of laughter, inspire them with 
brain-waves begotten, possibly, over a drowsy pipe, and 
you have the atmosphere in which events are born at Scotland 
House. 
"Good chaps," is Sir Edward's tribute to the special con- 
stables under his headship ; and, mind you, they count, 
all told, some 32,000 of them. Of these, 21,000 are in uniform, 
and 8,000 have received the star which betokens service 
since 1914 — the year the Great War began. When the 
special constables came into existence there was no organisa- 
tion whatever for their governance and work. Everything 
had to be foimd except the armlet, the baton, and the whistle, 
which Scotland Yard was able to supply out of its stores. 
Sir Edward Ward at once got democracy into stride with 
authority. How, he does not know ; but he is a magic 
blender. He will mention to you, under his breath, humor- 
ously swearing you to secrecy, a section of the London Special 
Constabulary, where the local barber is in command and two 
baronets are in the ranks. It is an actual case of the Hay- 
market play "General Post," and there are other instances. 
It needs — what does it need ? — flair to brigade the man of 
Mile End with the man in St. James's Square, {o the content- 
ment of both. 
But Sir Edward Ward does the difficult things, the big 
things, easily ; and he likes to do them, just for themselves. 
He is a man to whom the country already owes much, and 
from whom it may confidently demand more in these complex 
aiid confused days of Armageddon. 
