Asquith is a man of quite different mold. A jovial, sociable fellow, a
friend of the ladies, especially young and beautiful ones, he loves
cheery surroundings and a good cook, and is supported by a cheery young
wife. He was formerly a well-known lawyer, with a large income and many
years' Parliamentary experience. Later he was known as a Minister under
Gladstone, a pacifist like his friend Grey, and friendly to an
understanding with Germany. He treated all questions with an experienced
business man's calm and certainty, and enjoyed good health and excellent
nerves, steeled by assiduous golf.
His daughters went to a German boarding school and speak fluent German.
We quickly became good friends with him and his family, and were guests
at his little house on the Thames.
He only rarely occupied himself with foreign affairs. When important
questions cropped up, with him lay the ultimate decision. During the
critical days of July Asquith often came to warn us, and he was
ultimately in despair over the tragic turn of events. On Aug. 2, when I
saw Asquith in order to make a final attempt, he was completely broken,
and, although quite calm, tears ran down his face.