Nov 9, 2025
Anthony Asquith, November 9, 1902 – February 20, 1968.
With his parents, Margot and Herbert Asquith.
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seen from T1
seen from United Kingdom
Anthony Asquith, November 9, 1902 – February 20, 1968.
With his parents, Margot and Herbert Asquith.
(They’re all drunk) Winston Churchill: If I could speak the language of rabbits, they would be amazed and I would be their king. H.H. Asquith: I hate my name. It has herb in it. Herbert. David Lloyd George: I once tried to make a move on Henry’s wife. Winston Churchill: I would be kind to my rabbit subjects... At first. H.H. Asquith: You know what’s a cool name? Angelo. That has Angel and girl in it. David Lloyd George: It was some MP’s funeral. We were all back at his widow’s house, our eyes locked over the tea loaves. I don’t think I meant for it to happen, it just did. Winston Churchill: One day, I hold a great ball for the President of the United States, but the rabbits they hate me and don’t come. I’m embarrassed, so I eat all the lettuce in the world and make them watch. H.H. Asquith: People could call me Angie… “Hello Angie, how are you?” David Lloyd George: To this day, I can’t look at tea loaves without being aroused and ashamed. Ah... Margot.
"One evening late in 1915 the Military Secretary burst into my room and said I must come to dinner, as they were 13 at table. The Prime Minister and Sir John Fortescue were of the party. After the port and old brandy had circulated, Mr. Asquith began to soliloquise, “Strange that this war has not produced a great general!”. Before I could think, Henry Wilson, also speaking into the void, murmured very distinctly, “nor a great statesman.”
Lieutenant-Colonel James Edmonds on being billeted near General Headquarters in France, 1915.
Jeeves and Wooster ass country.
Henry Wilson above and Herbert Asquith below.
Venice
Herbert Asquith, Prime Minister’s son...
In domes of dim and ancient gold, In cloisters, where the lightning plays, Where gleam the gorgeous saints of old In aisles of jade and chrysoprase, In halls that wave like waving water, Still moves the voice of Ocean's daughter. Venice ! What siren music then Stirred on the shoals and shallow sea, When that small band of wandering men First in their dreams imagined thee, And hung thy lyric splendour high Between the water and the sky! What Triton strains in other days Were heard, when, on a sea of flame, Thy battlefleet swung through the haze, And homeward in her glory came, Bearing the beauty of the East To make Thy happy saint a feast. Now, though that sceptre-hand be cold, Those argent argosies no more Their Tyrian-tinted wings unfold From Cyprus unto Elsinore; With broken sword, and banner furled, How dies the Siren of the world? The cloud has lifted from the stars, And now again the starlight falls; Now Venus calls again to Mars, And Bacchus reels about his halls And, lovely in a thousand forms, Our Lady drifts above the storms. Among the moonlit marble lace, That wreathes this avenue forlorn, Some God has made his dwelling place And takes his manna from the morn; And every young and wandering soul, That passes here, must pay its toll. Far off the city fades away, Save where one tow'r of rosy light, Like some dissolving shaft of day, Pierces the bosom of the night: The distant lightning breaks its shroud: Valhalla gleams beyond the cloud. Alone we float through gulfs remote, The black canal no longer seen; My boat it is a fairy boat, Above the ripple silver-green, Upon the wavelet violet-crowned, My boat and I are outward bound!
© IWM (Q 4188) British Prime Minister Herbert Asquith watches soldiers (possibly Royal Fusiliers) adjusting fuses. Outside Contay, 7 August 1916.
H.H. Asquith, hungover: Please tell me I'm imagining that I claimed I was king of the ducks. David Lloyd George: I would, but then I would be lying to the King of All Ducks.
David Lloyd George, quite clearly drunk: gUeSs WhO's DrUnK??? Winston Churchill: You...? David Lloyd George, immediately stops acting drunk: No silly! It's Herbert! H.H. Asquith, literally drunk: WINNIE. I love your tie!
Britain celebrating blood-liable, cultural imperialist, homophonic, germophobic propaganda, and a bloodthirsty dictator that sent millions of men to their doom and put anti-war demonstrators, the poor, and ethnic Germans (including their spouses and children) into concentration camps. I hate this country.