Henry Peeters paintings
Hessam Abrishami paintings
the South of Italy. However, Germanicus was in the same case as myself, which was some comfort. He had volunteered for service in Germany, but Augustus needed him at Rome, where he was very popular, to help him quell the civil disturbances which he feared might break out as soon as the troops had left the City.
Meanwhile the Germans hunted down all the fugitives from Varus's army and sacrificed scores of them to their forest-gods, burning them alive in wicker cages. The remainder they held as captives. (Some of them were later ransomed by their relatives at an extravagantly high price, but Augustus forbade them ever to enter Italy again.) The Germans also enjoyed a long succession of tremendous drinking-bouts on the captured wine, and quarrelled bloodily over the glory and plunder. It was a long time before they became active again and realized how little opposition they would meet if they marched to the Rhine. But as soon as the wine began to give out they attacked the weakly-held frontier-fortresses and one by one captured and sacked them
Howard Behrens paintings
Showing posts with label Henry Peeters paintings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Henry Peeters paintings. Show all posts
Monday, 20 October 2008
Saturday, 27 September 2008
Henry Peeters paintings
Henry Peeters paintings
Hessam Abrishami paintings
Howard Behrens paintings
No one that I knew got killed in the war except Alastair Trumpington.”
“And Cedric Lyne.”
“Yes, there was Cedric.”
“And Freddy Sothill.”
“I never really considered I knew him,” said Basil.
“This Albright married someone—Molly Meadows, perhaps?”
“I married Molly Meadows.”
“So you did. I was there. Well, someone like that. One of those girls who were going round at the time—John Flintshire’s sister, Sally perhaps. I expect your Albright is her son.”
“He doesn’t look like anyone’s son.”
“People always are,” said Basil, “sons or daughters of people.”
This truism had a secondary, antiquated and, to Peter, an obvious meaning, which was significant of the extent by which Basil had changed from enfant terrible to “old Pobble,” the name by which he was known to his daughter’s friends.
The change had been rapid. In 1939 Basil’s mother, his sister, Barbara Sothill, and his mistress, Angela Lyne, had seen the war as the opportunity for his redemption
Hessam Abrishami paintings
Howard Behrens paintings
No one that I knew got killed in the war except Alastair Trumpington.”
“And Cedric Lyne.”
“Yes, there was Cedric.”
“And Freddy Sothill.”
“I never really considered I knew him,” said Basil.
“This Albright married someone—Molly Meadows, perhaps?”
“I married Molly Meadows.”
“So you did. I was there. Well, someone like that. One of those girls who were going round at the time—John Flintshire’s sister, Sally perhaps. I expect your Albright is her son.”
“He doesn’t look like anyone’s son.”
“People always are,” said Basil, “sons or daughters of people.”
This truism had a secondary, antiquated and, to Peter, an obvious meaning, which was significant of the extent by which Basil had changed from enfant terrible to “old Pobble,” the name by which he was known to his daughter’s friends.
The change had been rapid. In 1939 Basil’s mother, his sister, Barbara Sothill, and his mistress, Angela Lyne, had seen the war as the opportunity for his redemption
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