“ Later in the season the traveller often encounters, in deep-lying valleys, the black and shrunken remnants of these mighty avalanches, melted down by summer heats. Little idea can they give him of the splendour of their birth and the white curdled beauty of their surface when they first come to rest. In the nature of things they travel far and fall low, well into the tree-belt, and even down to the chestnut-level on the Italian side. It is a strange sight to see these vast, new-fallen masses lying in their accustomed beds, but surrounded by trees all freshly verdant with the gifts of spring. ”
Frank Fox
Biographical details
Sir Frank Ignatius Fox (1874–1960), an Australian-born journalist, author, and soldier, resided in Britain from 1909, where he became a prominent writer on military history, travel, and imperial matters. His works, such as Bushman and Buccaneer (a seminal memoir of Harry Morant) and Peeps At Many Lands: Australia, combine vivid natural description with reflections on empire and human conflict.
Themes of imperialism, the moral complexities of war, and the relationship between landscape and identity shape his body of work. A decorated soldier and advocate for imperial causes, Fox’s legacy endures through his incisive prose and campaigning, bridging journalism, literature, and historical narrative.
Quotes by Frank Fox
Frank Fox,
Peeps At Many Lands: Australia
“ The fairy-story of the Sleeping Beauty might have been thought out by someone having Australia in his mind. She was the Sleeping Beauty among the lands of the earth—a great continent, delicately beautiful in her natural features, wonderfully rich in wealth of soil and of mine, left for many, many centuries hidden away from the life of civilization, finally to be wakened to happiness by the courage and daring of English sailors, who, though not Princes nor even knights in title, were as noble and as bold as any hero of a fairy-tale. ”
Frank Fox,
The Balkan Peninsula
“ Nature set up there lists for the great contests of races—on the path from the cold north of Europe to the warm south; on the path from Asia to Europe; and each great campaign left behind it shreds of devastated peoples. These shreds of peoples dwelling in the Balkans to-day have a blood-thirst as an inescapable heritage. Turk, Bulgar, Serb, Roumanian, Greek—they may hold the peace for a time, and some may try to think that they are friends with others; but all have something of hate or fear or contempt for the others, and all prepare in peace for the next fight. ”
