Showing posts with label Earl Roberts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Earl Roberts. Show all posts

Thursday, 31 December 2009

Attractions of empire



I remember young Fred Roberts (who’s a Field-Marshall now, which shows you what pull these Addiscombe wallahs have got) once saying that everyone hated India for a month and then loved it forever. I wouldn’t altogether agree, but I’ll allow it had its attractions in the old days; you lived like a lord without having to work, waited on hand and foot, made money if you set your mind to it, and hardly exerted yourself at all except to hunt the beasts, thrash the men, and bull the women.



Flashman in the Great Game, p.58, Pan edition, 4th printing, 1979.




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Wednesday, 4 November 2009

A windy streak



I’ve often wondered since, if chaps like Chinese Gordon and Bobs and Custer always went about feeling the way I did that night – not knowing what fear was? It would account for a lot, you know. But God help anyone who’s born that way; I’m sorry for ’em. You can’t know any real peace of mind, I think, unless you’ve got a windy streak in you.



Flashman at the Charge, p.284, Pan edition, 5th printing, 1979.




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