February 11th, 1917 Diary of Captain T.E. Lawrence I got into a major row with my subordinate. The men are fearful of Stanley the Saysquack; we cannot have a loose ape-man running amok through camp, so I ordered Browntrout to keep him on collar and leash at all times. Browntrout replied that Stanley is not a slave or a beast and would not submit to such ill-usage. I replied that Stanley was wild and unpredictable; he was seen lunging at my servant Daud. Browntrout stated that Daud had first taken a fire-heated stick and poked Stanley in the rump with it. He further pointed out that I beat my servants (only on one occasion) and he never needs to hit Stanley to get him to comply because Stanley is not only his batman, but a family member. I scoffed at the opulence and profligacy of their camp—full-length mirror, books, tea service, tins of meat—and not a single book on Arabian culture, not the Koran, Rumi, not a simple Arabic dictionary, not even One Thousand and One Nights in Arabia! Nothing! I accused him of being a poor guest in this land, of acting English, of failing to adapt. He said I pretended to be an Arab, but looked perfectly English. I said that I was finished arguing and I was issuing a direct order. Leash and collar Stanley now. Browntrout stood with his hands in the pockets of his khaki drill, his face stoic, and said nothing. I drew myself up to my full 5’3” height and reached up to place the collar on Stanley myself, but I could not reach his neck, even on tiptoes. Stanley just stared down at me with disdain and said “ENG-LISH,” and then, “UMPH” disgustedly. “Put it on!” I told the brute. He did nothing. I hit him on the knee with it. “Put it on, NOW.” He did not budge. I turned to Browntrout and told him I could have him shot for disobeying my order. He replied that I could, but I wouldn’t. With that, I slapped him across the face. After this, he said, “You say Stanley is a brute, but you are the only savage here…sir.” I came within an inch of him and icily stared as close to his face as I could with my piercing blue eyes, but Browntrout was a head taller than me, so I was a bit overmatched in this contest. Finally, I turned, decided to say nothing more and walked away. Stanley remained unleashed. I let it be known to all the camp that Browntrout would be personally held liable for any of Stanley’s actions.
He is not a man, yet he is not an animal
He is not a man, yet he is not an animal
He is not a man, yet he is not an animal
February 11th, 1917 Diary of Captain T.E. Lawrence I got into a major row with my subordinate. The men are fearful of Stanley the Saysquack; we cannot have a loose ape-man running amok through camp, so I ordered Browntrout to keep him on collar and leash at all times. Browntrout replied that Stanley is not a slave or a beast and would not submit to such ill-usage. I replied that Stanley was wild and unpredictable; he was seen lunging at my servant Daud. Browntrout stated that Daud had first taken a fire-heated stick and poked Stanley in the rump with it. He further pointed out that I beat my servants (only on one occasion) and he never needs to hit Stanley to get him to comply because Stanley is not only his batman, but a family member. I scoffed at the opulence and profligacy of their camp—full-length mirror, books, tea service, tins of meat—and not a single book on Arabian culture, not the Koran, Rumi, not a simple Arabic dictionary, not even One Thousand and One Nights in Arabia! Nothing! I accused him of being a poor guest in this land, of acting English, of failing to adapt. He said I pretended to be an Arab, but looked perfectly English. I said that I was finished arguing and I was issuing a direct order. Leash and collar Stanley now. Browntrout stood with his hands in the pockets of his khaki drill, his face stoic, and said nothing. I drew myself up to my full 5’3” height and reached up to place the collar on Stanley myself, but I could not reach his neck, even on tiptoes. Stanley just stared down at me with disdain and said “ENG-LISH,” and then, “UMPH” disgustedly. “Put it on!” I told the brute. He did nothing. I hit him on the knee with it. “Put it on, NOW.” He did not budge. I turned to Browntrout and told him I could have him shot for disobeying my order. He replied that I could, but I wouldn’t. With that, I slapped him across the face. After this, he said, “You say Stanley is a brute, but you are the only savage here…sir.” I came within an inch of him and icily stared as close to his face as I could with my piercing blue eyes, but Browntrout was a head taller than me, so I was a bit overmatched in this contest. Finally, I turned, decided to say nothing more and walked away. Stanley remained unleashed. I let it be known to all the camp that Browntrout would be personally held liable for any of Stanley’s actions.