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| Elizabeth (Elsie) Newcombe, née Chaki (1919) |
This recently discovered photograph is of the remarkable Elizabeth (Elsie) Chaki, the Jewish daughter of a Spanish mother and a French father who worked for the Levantine Civil Service in Constantinople. Elsie was a spirited twenty-year-old who knew her own mind and had taken great personal risks to help Stewart Francis Newcombe escape from a Turkish prisoner-of-war camp during World War 1, as well as facilitating escape routes for other Allied escapees hiding under cover in the capital. The photo was taken in 1919 on the occasion of her marriage to the 40-year-old colonel, and was published by the media as part of the incredible story of Newcombe's capture, escape and romance that was syndicated around the world.
Earlier that year, the Paris Peace Conference began on 12 January 1919 with the first of what would be well over a hundred meetings between the leaders of countries seeking a peace that was intended to end war for all time. Within days the town filled with an international contingent working towards a just and lasting settlement based on American President Woodrow Wilson’s 14 Points. Kings, Queens, Emirs, and Presidents answered an instinctive need to be present at the biggest diplomatic time of reckoning in history when the spoils of war would be shared by the victors and the defeated would be asked to pay the price of peace.
After T.E. Lawrence’s firm endorsement of Emir Feisal as the leader most suited to take forward the Arab Revolt on the battlefield, it came as no surprise that he believed that he was also the one who had the greatest chance of success in the negotiations over the future of the Middle East and had therefore sent a message to King Hussein suggesting that Hussein should send Feisal as the Arab representative at the Conference.
On the eve of his own departure, Lawrence appeared realistic about the possibility of the Arabs achieving their aims when he wrote to a friend, "We may find ourselves shut out, or let in, or on the same ground as the rest of the earth. And till the end of the conference I cannot tell you. At present everything is evenly balanced."
Faisal and his entourage arrived in the midst of this gathering circus and were immediately told the devastating news that as the Hejaz delegation had no official status it could not be given representation and therefore their case would not be heard. Lawrence made light of the impasse but thereafter all his time was spent in a frantic round of meetings with politicians and journalists to push the Arab agenda to the forefront.
The Arab delegation cut a colourful and intriguing impression on the other delegates. Faisal, whose voice it was even said, "seemed to breathe the perfume of frankincense", was accompanied everywhere by his large Nubian bodyguard, complete with dagger. A retinue of advisors, many in flowing robes, drifted regally through the meeting rooms of the conference, causing a stir wherever they went. Lawrence, especially, missed no opportunity to appear in his now familiar Arab head-dress over his colonel’s uniform, reinforcing his close association with Faisal and the Arab cause. When the occasion demanded, he would even don the full robes of an Arab Emir and was described as "gliding along the corridors" of the Hotel Majestic on his way to another meeting to press the case for Arab representation before the so-called 'Big Four' - Lloyd George of Britain, Vittorio Emanuele Orlando of Italy, Georges Clemenceau of France, and Woodrow Wilson of the U.S.
Churchill was especially struck by the transformation that came over Lawrence during these times, describing how "the full magnificence of his countenance revealed itself." When Churchill wrote these words in 1935, Britain was soon to face its finest hour and in need of a mythical Arthurian figure waiting in the wings to answer the call to arms once again. Churchill’s words fitted the moment, and the need:
"From amid the flowing draperies his noble features, his perfectly chiselled lips, and flashing eyes loaded with fire and comprehension shone forth. He looked what he was, one of nature’s greatest princes."
Throughout his time in Paris, Lawrence remained optimistic, at least in front of Faisal, but was a little premature when he suggested that the conference had nearly run its course and would be wrapped up by mid February. "Another fortnight, perhaps," he had written hopefully to his mother. In fact, the conference was to grind on for six full months of debating, arguing and horse-trading before treaties were made, borders moved, countries created, and reparations imposed upon an adversary not yet thoroughly defeated; six months during which hopes and dreams were realised or dashed, old wounds were reopened, expectations rose and fell, and fresh injustices were heaped upon the misery of the previous four years. Clemenceau summed up the challenge in an aside to a colleague: "It is much easier to make war than peace." His assessment ultimately proved correct with the result that a lasting solution to the so called ‘Syrian Question’ - that vaguely defined region that included Palestine - has thus far proved insurmountable.
By the end of the month, Lawrence complained to his mother: "I have had, personally, one meal in my hotel since I got to Paris!" Happily, that meal was shared with a welcome ally. Newcombe had turned up unexpectedly.
The two friends had much to discuss, not least Newcombe’s first-hand account of his amazing Boy's Own adventures. Lawrence’s amusement at discovering that his friend was betrothed to marry can only be guessed at. Newcombe was anxiously awaiting news that Elsie had been given permission to leave the Turkish capital; Paris would be perfect for their long-awaited reunion. In the meantime, within just a few short weeks since leaving the arena of hostilities, the two men were thrown into the equally hostile and unpredictable world of high politics. When Elsie eventually arrived, it was a bright spot during a testing period for both men. Before she met Lawrence for the first time, Newcombe felt compelled to warn her, "If you meet a very rude young Englishman, pay no attention. It will be Lawrence."
In later years, Elsie gave a description to a Lawrence biographer, John E. Mack, of a warm and amusing picture of the time she met Lawrence in Paris. Newcombe and his fiancée were at a well-attended dinner with no opportunity to be introduced to Lawrence. However, at the end of the meal, a butler passed a message from Lawrence suggesting the three of them should meet. A dinner was duly arranged and when he arrived, Elsie asked him to sit next to her, to which Lawrence responded solemnly that he was not worthy of such an honour. After dinner, they went outside and Lawrence was standing on the pavement, with Elsie in the road. "Now I'm taller than you," he quipped. She promptly gave him a hard shove into the road and hopped onto the pavement. "Now I'm taller than you," she retorted. Newcombe interrupted this horseplay, saying, "Come with me. Soon you'll want to marry him instead of me." But Elsie, having the last word, replied, "Oh no, you're better looking and much nicer." Lawrence could only laugh, but Newcombe seemed a little embarrassed.
With the question of his next posting still to be settled, Newcombe returned to London and took lodgings at the United Service Club in Pall Mall. Reserved for senior officers above the rank of Major, “The Senior” as it was known, was considered the most prestigious military club in London. Since his return he had been busy with all sorts of plans, but none more important than his own wedding.
While Elsie settled into the Hans Crescent Hotel just behind the Harrods department store in Knightsbridge, Newcombe began to make the necessary arrangements but soon found that it was not going to be as easy as he had thought. As Elsie was technically an “enemy alien subject” she was placed under certain restrictions and entering into marriage, especially with one of his Majesty’s serving officers, was going to take ingenuity to pull off. With arrangements for Newcombe to be posted overseas at an advanced stage there was no time to be lost. Elsie’s status as a citizen of Constantinople under French protection gave her some advantages but it was the recognition for her work in helping Newcombe and other Allied prisoners-of-war in their escape plans that would eventually decide the matter in her favour. Strings were pulled at senior level and with assistance from the Registrar-General, and even the Home Secretary, the matter was eventually resolved when Elsie was given permission to become a British subject.
With all legal difficulties overcome and arrangements having been settled, his marriage to Elsie took place on 15 April 1919, immediately upon the opening of the Registry Office at 15 Henrietta Street, Covent Garden. The following day the couple, armed with the registrars’ certificate, drove across town to St. Margaret’s, the delightful church in the grounds of Westminster Abbey on Parliament Square, known as the Church of the House of Commons. Although the church was normally closed to wedding services during the Holy Week of Easter a further favour was asked of an old school chum from Christ’s Hospital, the Revd. Herbert Francis Westlake, a Minor Canon of Westminster.
Westlake carefully read the documents brought from the Registry Office and once he was satisfied that all was correct he welcomed the couple at the altar and began the religious service. If Newcombe wanted to impress his young bride he could not have picked a more magnificent location, situated at the spiritual and political epicentre of the Empire he served as a loyal and dedicated agent.
Within days newspapers reported the marriage in a story that was syndicated around the Empire under the title ‘Real Romance of Love and War’. They claimed, rightly, that it was a tale "which seems to belong to the pages of a novel rather than to a record of actual events." The ceremony, the report concluded, was "the culminating act of a chain of happenings which included adventures among the enemy disguised as an Arab, capture, a love episode, escape, recapture, and finally a happy reunion in England, and wedding bells." The happy couple, who had met under such remarkable circumstances and had already gone through so many adventures together, had overcome the last difficulty and were finally united in marriage. The verdict from the London newspapers was heart-warming, describing Elsie as "handsome and singularly charming."
The marriage is not recorded in the register book in the usual way, but is listed on an inserted Certificate of Marriage slip, in the April section for that year. An accompanying letter indicates that there were two ceremonies of marriage, one in the Church of England and another one elsewhere according to other religious rites. The letter goes on to explains what happens in this sort of case: “...When it is desired that two marriages of the same parties should be solemnized on the same day by different religious rites separate Notice must be given for each marriage...and each marriage is then celebrated in precisely the same manner as if it were the only marriage. No reference to the ceremony in the other church being made in the marriage register...”
With Newcombe's future still undecided, their religious differences would cause some consternation in government and military circles later in the year.
