Edmond Dantès
Dantès the White
Who was he?
- British scholar, writer and soldier who mobilised the Arab Revolt in WW1
- A trained archaeologist with deep sympathies for the Arab people, Lawrence became an adviser to the Arabs and led small but effective irregular force against Turkey, attacking communication and supply routes
- Sensationalised accounts of Lawrence's war exploits made him famous, but he spent the rest of his life trying to escape his own celebrity
- His memoir, Seven Pillars of Wisdom, formed the basis of David Lean's 1962 film Lawrence of Arabia, starring Peter O'Toole
Continued hereWhen TE Lawrence - immortalised as Lawrence of Arabia - died 80 years ago he could not have known that the accident which took his life, and the surgeon who tried to save him, would eventually help to save thousands of others.
It was pouring with rain on the morning of Sunday 19 May 1935 when TE Lawrence died.
The man made famous by his Great War exploits in the Middle East finally succumbed to the head injuries he had suffered six days earlier in a motorcycle accident.
"In Lawrence we have lost one of the greatest beings of our time," said his friend Winston Churchill. "I had hoped to see him quit his retirement and take a commanding part in facing the dangers which now threaten the country."
It was not to be. At the age of 46, Lawrence of Arabia was dead.
Mourning was international. The New York Times called it a "tragic waste" and speculated that the accident which brought his death had been "unwarranted and perhaps avoidable".
Lawrence had been pitched over his motorcycle, a Brough Superior SS100, near his Dorset home. A dip in the road apparently obscured his view of two boys on cycles ahead. The manoeuvring to avoid them cost him his own life.
The machine on which Lawrence suffered his fatal crash was guaranteed to be capable of more than 100mph, though there is no firm evidence that he was speeding recklessly when he came off it.
Lawrence had nicknamed it "Boa" or "Boanerges" which means "Son of Thunder" in Aramaic, and recorded his love of speed on previous rides.
"Boa and I took the Newark road for the last hour of daylight. He ambles at forty-five and when roaring his utmost, surpasses the hundred. A skittish motor-bike with a touch of blood in it is better than all the riding animals on earth," he wrote.
Whether Lawrence was riding safely in the run-up to the accident is unclear. "It's difficult to know exactly what the road would have been like in 1935 because it has changed so much, but the evidence is it was purely an accident," says Philip Neale, chairman of the TE Lawrence Society.
"He lost control and went over the handlebars. The Broughs didn't have fantastic brakes. The roads were very different in those days. Even the road in Dorset would have allowed some speed because traffic was light."
There was no mention in his obituaries that Lawrence had been without a crash helmet. In 1935 riders were typically bare-headed. Lawrence's death was to help change that - eventually.
One of the medics who attended Lawrence was a young doctor called Hugh Cairns, one of Britain's very first neurosurgeons.
His post-mortem examination established that Lawrence had suffered "severe lacerations and damage to the brain" when his unprotected head struck the ground. Had he survived, brain damage would probably have left him blind and unable to speak.
The loss of Lawrence was not forgotten by Cairns.
Recommended reading
- The Seven Pillars of Wisdom by T.E Lawrence
- Crusader Castles by T.E Lawrence
- The Odyssey of Homer: Translated by TE Lawrence
- The Letters of T.E Lawrence
- Hero: The Life & Legend of Lawrence of Arabia by Michael Korda
- Lawrence in Arabia: War, Deceit, Imperial Folly and the Making of the Modern Middle East by Scott Anderson
- Setting the Desert on Fire: T.E. Lawrence and Britain's Secret War in Arabia, 1916-18 by James Barr
- Lawrence of Arabia: The Authorized Biography of T. E. Lawrence by Jeremy Wilson
- Young Lawrence: A Portrait of the Legend as a Young Man by Anthony Sattin
On T.E. Lawrence and the Hejaz railway - An archive article
Continued hereThis article was originally published on February 3, 1991. We reproduce it here to mark the 80th anniversary of T.E. Lawrence's death.
The Bedouin tribesmen could not understand what all the fuss was about. For them, the narrow-gauge railway that cut through the village was nothing but an inconvenience. The fact that the tracks snaking through the desert are all that remain of one of the world’s most exotic railways has no significance for them.
The Hejaz railway from Damascus to Medina once served as a vital route across the desert and was a principal target for the Arabs and Lawrence of Arabia in the revolt against Turkish domination. No sooner had I made my way to the track than I was confronted by a Bedouin tribesman brandishing what looked suspiciously like a First World War service pistol. "Mamnour, mamnour," he shouted. The railway, it appeared, was forbidden, and judging by the way the other tribesmen nodded in agreement, there did not seem much point in arguing. As I was led away, I was relieved to count six brightly polished bullets still lodged in his holster.
The police station was new, but as we approached it I could see it was deserted. I was led instead to an outhouse with smoke pouring from the roof. On the floor lay a heap of carpets and cushions and in the corner, sucking extravagantly on a hookah, sat an elderly man dressed in a black cloak and displaying an impressive set of gold teeth.
I was invited to sit among the cushions, and almost immediately a servant appeared and poured me a cup of sweet tea. Nothing much happened for the next few minutes, except that more tea was poured and more tribesmen wandered in. Finally the interrogation began. Who was I? Where was I from? What was I doing? Where was my permission? Each question was asked with a smile and the offer of more tea. I explained as best I could that I was a journalist who had taken advantage of a rare opportunity to see the railway line made famous by Lawrence of Arabia. "Railway?" demanded my inquisitor. "What railway?" I pointed to the scene of my arrest. "No train. Train finish," my interrogator helpfully added.
The films