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The couple retired to coastal Cornwall where, in a comical episode, he and Frieda were accused of signalling to U-Boats with semaphoric underclothes on their washing line.

Persecution as spies coincided with Lawrence’s prosecution as a pornographer when , whose manuscript was everywhere turned down. For Lawrence all this was proof that the tree of life, Ygdrassil, was dead in England. Following the Universal Conscription Act in 1917, as the war looked very grim for the allies, Lawrence was called up for a medical.

In his convalescence he dashed off for a new patron, Edward Garnett at the publisher Duckworth. It was at this period he took on the authorial name ‘D. In Europe, with Frieda now beside him, he wrote ‘Paul Morel’ (as was called).

Duckworth accepted the novel and published it to strong reviews and modest sales.

Her eldest, William Ernest, had arrived at that point in life first.

He (‘another stool-arsed jack’) was doing well in London when he was stricken down by erysipelas and died.

Lawrence was, at the same time, writing plays, essays and – most successfully – short stories and forming long-lasting literary friendships: most significantly with Middleton Murry and his partner, Katherine Mansfield.

Lawrence’s growth as a creative writer over these years was amazing.

With the war over, and as soon as their passports, arrived the Lawrences took what would be a permanent farewell from his home country. Whatever his physicians said, he persisted in calling his chronic, ever worsening, condition ‘bronchials’. In 1925, while reading aloud his long short story about a magnificent stallion and his female rider, St Mawr, he spat up a gob of blood.

In 1907, he published his first short story – submitted under the name ‘Jessie Chambers’.

The qualified Lawrence left home to take up a teaching post in far-off Croydon.

Prosecuted in England for obscenity in 1960, the jury were asked if this was a book they would wish their servants to read. The cataclysm has happened, we are among the ruins, we start to build up new little habitats, to have new little hopes.

We've got to live, no matter how many skies have fallen.