"These thirty-one pieces have the grace and delicacy proper to miniatures, as Mr. Belloc aptly calls them. Each runs to no more than a dozen pages, yet the author contrives within these narrow limits to paint a set of memorable pictures of scenes taken from the whole range of French history, from the founding of Marseilles to the Battle of the Marne....Such imaginative reconstruction of history is of greater value than much laboured accuracy of detail and requires the gifts, which it is unnecessary to say Mr. Belloc has in ample measure, of the historian and the poet."
"The greater number of Mr. Belloc's subjects are mediaeval and--need we say?--military. The miniature entitled "Roncesvalles" will perhaps be best remembered--for its restraint, its delicacy, its actuality. The scenes are cleanly drawn with the sure touch of one who knows equally the history, the legend and the ground."
"These miniatures will long be read with delight, and we are grateful to Mr. Belloc for his delicate work."
--The Spectator, November 21st, 1925.
"These thirty-one pieces have the grace and delicacy proper to miniatures, as Mr. Belloc aptly calls them. Each runs to no more than a dozen pages, yet the author contrives within these narrow limits to paint a set of memorable pictures of scenes taken from the whole range of French history, from the founding of Marseilles to the Battle of the Marne....Such imaginative reconstruction of history is of greater value than much laboured accuracy of detail and requires the gifts, which it is unnecessary to say Mr. Belloc has in ample measure, of the historian and the poet."
"The greater number of Mr. Belloc's subjects are mediaeval and--need we say?--military. The miniature entitled "Roncesvalles" will perhaps be best remembered--for its restraint, its delicacy, its actuality. The scenes are cleanly drawn with the sure touch of one who knows equally the history, the legend and the ground."
"These miniatures will long be read with delight, and we are grateful to Mr. Belloc for his delicate work."
--The Spectator, November 21st, 1925.