Lord Robert Vansittart was a distant cousin of T.E. Lawrence from his father's side (T.E.'s paternal grandmother was Martha Louise Vansittart, the sister of Robert Vansittart who was the grandfather of Lord Robert).
āSharp interviews followed with Lawrence, too big for a cherub, too small for an angel, too angry for either. He was awkward company, since his big idea ā which Milner opposed ā was to 'diddle' or "biff' the French out of the Near East despite our pledges. For this he had spurred his overrated Arabs less toward fighting than racing for Damascus. I had really believed that they were in first, only to learn that the Australians bore the brunt. Setting all store by Feisal, not always a reliable ally, Lawrence regarded perfidy to our allies as due to his protĆ©gĆ©s, and looked askance at those concerned in the dirty work of keeping our word. He had probably promised more than could be performed, and dwelled angrily on our ill-faith to 'the Arabs', who had done pretty well for themselves seeing how little they did for others.
He felt too big for the pumps in which he entered my office, boasting of having torn off his British decorations. He thought that someone would mind, but the Orders of the Bath and Distinguished Service went on. He was shymaking too when he wore Emir's robes in Paris, but he loved to invest dull days with his gifts and faults, Dichtung und Wahrheit, daring and brusquerie, delicacy and cheek. A host of contradictions made him unlike anyone else. If he was a show-off he had something to show. In an age where Socialism would reduce mankind to 'parity of esteem' from youth up, it is surely pleasant to recall originalities not always pleasing.
Lawrence was one of the people whom I was glad to have known and not to have known better. He was an acquaintance not a friend, a relative so distant that we never mentioned the subject. Besides I did not feel at home with his oddities and would not have ventured in those Paris days to invite the impressive little man, so young, so authoritative, to a night on the town. He seemed as hostile to sex as to the French, and his diet might have caused silence in a plush restaurant. 'I can't make him out,' Harold Nicolson repeated. Nor could Lawrence.ā
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