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Updated: May 8, 2025
When Lord Randolph Churchill makes up his mind to be rational, few people in the House of Commons can be more rational; but when he makes up his mind to throw prudence, sense, and reserve to the winds, nobody can rise to such heights and descend to such depths of wild, unreasonable, bellowing Toryism always, of course, excepting Ashmead-Bartlett.
Gildas is the oldest historian of these islands, and his work consists entirely of a good old Tory lament in the Ashmead-Bartlett strain upon the degeneracy of the times and the proximate ruin of the British people. Gildas wrote some fourteen hundred years ago or thereabouts and the country is not yet quite visibly ruined.
Fuller, my Artillery Commander, and Ashmead-Bartlett, the correspondent, were both on board, and both were saved minus kit! About 40 men have gone under. Bad luck. A Naval Officer who has seen her says she is lying in shallow water 6 fathoms bottom upwards looking like a stranded whale. He says the German submarine made a most lovely shot at her through a crowd of cargo ships and transports.
So genial and considerate is she that all love her, both rich and poor. She has fine manners and an open, pleasant face. For some years a young friend, about half her own age, Mr. William Ashmead-Bartlett, had assisted her in dispensing her charities, and in other financial matters. At one time he went to Turkey, at her request, using wisely the funds committed to his trust.
Highly significant, as showing the serious state of public opinion in England during the closing days of the Dardanelles campaign, were the published statements of E. Ashmead-Bartlett. Ashmead-Bartlett was in the nature of an official eyewitness of the major part of the operations at the Strait, although the British War Office took no responsibility for his opinions or statements.
Rather than face that discipline he would suffer the company of his old colleagues on the Front Opposition Bench. As a Privy Councillor and ex-Minister he had a right to a seat on that bench equal, at least, to that of Sir Ellis Ashmead-Bartlett.
We are coaling and life has grown dark and noisy. In the middle of it, Ashmead-Bartlett came aboard to see me. He has his quarters on the Queen Elizabeth as one of the Admiralty authorised Press Correspondents, or rather, as the only authorised correspondent. In Manchuria he was known and his writing was well liked.
After some slight difficulty I ascertained that my representative is a Mr. Burdett Coutts, who was, in the romantic eighties, Mr. Ashmead-Bartlett.
Ashmead-Bartlett had an appointment, K. himself took trouble to send me several cables about him a little time ago. Verbally, or in writing, my astonishment at K.'s confidence can only find expression in verse: "Oft expectation fails, and most oft there Where most it promises;" He, Ashmead-Bartlett, came to-day to beg me to deliver him out of the hands of the Censor.
This makes one wonder what would Ashmead-Bartlett himself do if he were offered ten shillings and a good supper by a Mahommedan when he was feeling a bit hungry and hard up amongst the Christians. Anyway, there is no type of soldier man fighting in the war who is more faithful to his salt than the Osmanli Turk.
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