A Real Romance of Love, War and Politics

Elizabeth (Elsie) Newcombe, née Chaki (1919)

This recently discovered photograph is of the remarkable Elizabeth (Elsie) Chaki, a Jewish girl of Spanish/French heritage, whose father 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 so 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 different religious backgrounds would cause some consternation in government and military circles later in the year.

A TIME FOR GAMES

THE INTER-ALLIED GAMES - 22 June to 6 July 1919

The recent announcement that Paris had been awarded the 2024 XXXIII Olympiad brought to mind an unusual event that took place in the shadow of the Paris Peace Conference in 1919.

While the details of peace were being discussed the victors devised what they considered a useful diversion for the millions of troops on the Eastern and Western fronts waiting for demobilisation and a return to a home and family that many had not seen for several months. For Dominion and Imperial forces, the long periods of separation had been much longer as ‘home’ leave was virtually impossible. Repatriation took time and indeed many troops would not see their homeland until 1922. To keep the troops occupied and to replace fighting as the stimulus for a united effort an Inter-Allied Games – otherwise known as the Military “Olympics” – were set up with the very best intentions. The Games were described by the Official History as “important in themselves because of their magnitude, unparalleled in the annals of sport by reason of the circumstances under which they were held.” It went on to say: “ These Games signalized to a vast number of soldiers of the various Armies of the Allies the end of the Great War and the beginning, in this unique love feast of divers races and nationalities, of a greater and more hopeful peace than the world had yet known.”

Feisal, Lawrence and Nuri Said

Many countries would participate for reasons of celebration or in continuation of friendly relations created under wartime conditions. In other cases countries such as Romania and Czechoslovakia, whose very existence was still in political doubt, saw the games as a further opportunity to raise their visibility on a world stage.

The idea of a ‘unique love feast’ of sport was first conceived by Elwood Brown less than two months after the end of hostilities. Brown was a leading advocate of a so-called ‘Muscular’ form of Christianity which he promoted throughout South-East Asia under the auspices of the Young Men’s Christian Association (YMCA). His approach was especially successful in the Philippines where as Director of Athletics he proposed and implemented the Far-Eastern Olympic Games from 1913 onwards. His concept of an Inter-Allied Games was quickly taken up by the American Expeditionary Forces (AEF) who convinced France and the International Olympic Committee to agree to the Games being placed under sole US control without interference. The Americans took their role very seriously and constructed a dedicated stadium east of Paris close to the Bois de Vincennes where the 1900 Olympics had taken place. It was named the Stade Pershing after the Commander of the AEF, General John J. Pershing who had been an acquaintance of Brown from the Philippines. The two men became the driving force behind the competition.

Feisal, fighting for the very existence of some form of Arab nationhood, must have been more than a little bemused to receive a letter of invitation from Pershing himself and may well have sought Lawrence’s advice on a matter he would not have anticipated but which might present wider political implications in the future. This was one more opportunity to reinforce an Arab presence on the world stage and the decision to attend was not taken lightly. His response was both cordial and humble. 

Paris, 20 March, 1919.

My dear General:
I am deeply sensible of the honour you paid the troops under my command in inviting us to take part in the Inter-Allied Athletic Meeting to be held shortly in Paris. It will give us the greatest pleasure to participate. I have sent General Nuri Pacha Said of my staff to Damascus to choose such team as we can supply, and will send you details of our entry as soon as possible.

I have the honour to be, sir
Yours very faithfully,
Faisal.

The only problem now for Feisal was who to pick to represent the budding nation of Arabs? With Nuri tasked with finding suitable representatives of the Hejaz contingent it quickly became apparent that with American and French supremacy in numbers perhaps a more symbolic involvement should be sought. Britain, for the same reasons, had declined full participation and contented itself to an advisory role and in sending a golf team and rowing crews.

Twenty-nine letters of invitation were sent and eighteen allied nations and territories accepted. The Games were well attended throughout commencing with the inauguration of the Pershing Stadium which attracted more than 90,000 spectators, although urgent business meant that President Wilson and M. Clemenceau were unable to attend. With 76 events across a dozen sports it was an ambitious programme not dissimilar to that of the 1916 Berlin Olympics which had been cancelled due to war.

Stade Pershing under construction

Baron Pierre de Coubertin, the founder of the modern Olympic Games, had initially locked horns over Brown’s plans to hold the Games which he perceived as an intrusion into Olympic affairs. Fortunately, they came to a mutual understanding based on a shared vision for stimulating sport and its ideals at a truly world level. Perhaps on no other occasion had there been a more poignant time for games and where the spirit of the Baron’s creed was felt more strongly: "The most important thing in the Olympic Games is not to win but to take part, just as the most important thing in life is not the triumph but the struggle. The essential thing is not to have conquered but to have fought well."

Nuri returned to France with fifteen contestants, although only three of them were pitted in open competition. Of the rest, eight took part in a performance of Arabian Sword dancing while four riders were chosen from among the best in the two camel-mounted regiments in the Hejaz Regular Army for a demonstration of camel-racing. These were meant to represent the type of competition most popular in Arabia and were well received. Horse riding is normally a particularly well represented event across most competing nations but many were prevented by the post-war difficulty of finding the necessary mounts and of transporting them to Paris. The Hejaz team was able to put up three riders but could only muster one horse, a little gray Arabian named Masoud. This mount, however, caused the greatest sensation during a long-distance race when its rider, Captain Fowzi, came from the back of the field and passed opponent after opponent finally finishing in seventh place. The next part of the competition consisted of jumps which the untrained Masoud was unable to complete and was therefore eliminated from the contest although it finished out the ride with much acclaim for its gallant efforts against a stronger field. 

A Tug-of-war

If the British contingent was largely absent the Official History of the Games was fulsome in its explanation, recording: ‘wherever the sport world foregathers, the Englishman is a welcome competitor and one whose chances of winning must be minutely calculated by his adversaries. Old England, however, if absent in the flesh, was present in the spirit, and indeed in the blood, for Australia, Canada and New Zealand played an important part in the competitions. The Dominions gave a good account of themselves, too?’

Among the more unusual events was hand-grenade throwing, which took place in the knowledge that most of the contestants had been practising for at least four years. However, first place with a new world record was surprisingly taken by an American army chaplain, Fred Thompson, with a toss of 245 feet, 11 inches, who although not a regular soldier was an accomplished collegiate athlete before the war. The irony of including a Tug-of-War competition in a town where so many new nations were fighting for recognition was perhaps lost on the organisers. As predicted, America and France swept the board with the most points gained from the largest pool of competitors. 

The Games were deemed a great success, not least in strengthening combatant morale and in bringing together men that had been bound “by strong ties of sympathy in the common ideals for which they were fighting”. Elwood Brown’s vision was to “lay the foundations for those enduring friendships which can come only from personal contact and which, in this case, were of such fundamental importance to the future welfare of the world.” It was a noble cause but the real work of forging a new world order had just concluded not on the playing fields but in the halls of Versailles and as Clemenceau complained: “It was much easier to make war than peace.” 

Feisal, Lawrence and the Arab delegation, having taken every opportunity to promote the need to break the Arab movement out of the confines of the Hejaz in the name of the King were under no illusion as to the difficulties that lay ahead.