The Silver Branch and The Lantern Bearers, by Rosemary Sutcliff

The Silver Branch and The Lantern Bearers continue the story of The Eagle of the Ninth. The heroes of each book trace their lineage back to Marcus of that book. Neither Branch nor Lantern matches the beauty or richness of character development in Eagle, but they are wonderful historical romances taking place in an intriguing setting that is both familiar (if you've been to England) and strange. The Roman seaport of Rutupiae figures in all three of the books and is a weighty symbol of the Romans in Britain in the 600 years or so around the birth of Jesus. (In fact, Christianity is portrayed as a novelty in these two books--and not at all in the first one, which took place prior to the birth of Jesus.)

Rutupiae, at present-day Richborough on the English Channel (nearish to Dover) was a major defensive stronghold and also received and sent out news, goods, and people from elsewhere in the world. "Britain" at this time was under attack from Saxons and Jutes from across the channel and from Picts and other tribes from north of the great Roman construction called Hadrian's Wall. Its borders correspond for the most part with modern England.

The Silver Branch told the story of Aquila, a young doctor in the Roman Legion, and his arrival at Rutupiae to serve in Britain. In a bit too much of a coincidence, the first person he meets in Britain is a relative who becomes his best friend, Flavius. Flavius is from Britain; the farm where he lives is the one established by (his grandfather?) Marcus Aquila in The Eagle of the Ninth. The two young men accidentally become aware of a threat to the British Emperor's reign. The Emperor's agenda is to establish Britain as a nation able to defend its own borders and hold its own place in the world even without the fall of Rome. Rome is seen as insecure as a protector.

Aquila and Flavius become outlaws, spies, counter-terrorists, and leaders of the resistance movemnt when the Emperor is killed. At their darkest time, when inspiration is needed the most, they find the Eagle of the Ninth, which had been hidden away until it was needed again. The Eagle becomes their rallying point through battle and hardship as they struggle to survive until the Romans return to restore order.
[For information on the Roman defense of Britain, discussed extensively in Rosemary Sutcliff's books, go to http://www.bbc.co.uk/schools/primaryhistory/romans/defence_of_britain ]

The Lantern Bearers is a few generations further removed from Eagle of the Ninth. A young Roman soldier from Britain is forced to chose between the life he always dreamed of--rising through the ranks to command a legion--and defending his home. The book takes place at the time when the Roman army was abruptly removed from Britain, allowing all the various factions Rome had been controlling to battle it out among themselves. The light at Rutupiae represents the feeble light remaining in Britain when the Romans are gone. Aquila (yes, another Aquila) chooses to work for that faint light.

Aquila survives his family's slaughter by Saxons (the family farm is torn apart) only to be sold to a Jute as a slave. He is taken across the channel and works for the family for several years. No affection grows between them. (Sutcliff is pretty clear-eyed about slavery.) Aquila is both sustained and eaten up inside by the knowledge that his sister is also, somewhere, a slave.


This is a drawing of the Roman fortress of Rutupiae--note the signal light tower
dominating the other structures. Otherwise, this is a fairly typical layout for a
Roman fortress and its associated town outside the fort's walls.

When Aquila escapes, he finds that his sister is lost to him. In bitterness, he takes his skills as a soldier and offers them to the British king--also the remaining representative of Rome and all things Roman in Britain. This book seems to move somewhat underwater as Aquila moves from battle to battle. The British king prevails, but his rule is seen as fragile. The king's protege (not Aquila) is hinted to be the coming King Arthur, but this is not developed.

Aquila is difficult to like. He carries his hurts as a stronger armor than his steel breast plate. His relationships are cold and unsatisfying and the reader can see the hurt in the people around him. And, given his history, that makes sense. But it doesn't make easy fiction. In the end, Aquila sees that there has been a shape to his life. He has not restored Britain, but he has born the lantern through dark times--in fact, he lit that light.

One of Sutcliff's strengths is the variety of secondary characters she develops. Especially poignant is a servant who binds himself to the heroes of Silver Branch. He carries and plays an instrument from olden times, a tree branch of silver hung with bells. The silver branch represents the ancient life of Britain as the eagle represents the order and discipline of Rome. The new Britain must hold onto both. In such a world of upheaval and danger, Sutcliff''s sacred objects provide a deep continuity of history, character, and family.

The Picts, forerunners of the Scots, are represented by a hunter who helps Aquila and Flavius escape in Silver Branch. He joins up with them and is pivotal in their final battle. I get the feeling that Sutcliff may deal ably with the Picts in another book. [For information about the Picts [ancient Scots], go to http://halfmoon.tripod.com/.]

These are good books. I'm delighted to have discovered Sutcliff, who works with many of the themes of other mid-20th century writers, such as Tolkien and C.S. Lewis. I wonder if she figured in the magical cross-pollination of imagination that occurred at that time. Her Britain is very much a Middle Earth, a Narnia, but one that is viscerally connected with us, one that is physically present and whose artifacts can still be seen and touched. [For images of the Roman ruins of Rutupiae, at present-day Richborough, go to Google Images and type "Roman Richborough" in the search line.]

The Eagle of the Ninth

NOTE: The third and fourth photos on this page are from a movie of this book.


The Eagle of the Ninth was a wonderful surprise--full of amazing plot, crystal-clear insights, interesting characters, and great writing. I had never heard of this book, but it was on my children's reading list, so I ordered it in from interlibrary loan and started reading. It was receipt of this book and two others in this series that made me happy enough to write my blog entry "Good Books: An American Freedom," available on this blog page.

Sutcliff sets this story in ancient Britain, during the time of Roman occupation, the second century A.D. The plot takes a young Roman soldier through his first command and then on to a quest to retrieve the eagle of his father's legion, called The Lost Ninth. The eagle is the golden standard held at the front of every legion--the eagle is protected as long as a soldier lives.

Our hero, Aquila, wants to return the eagle to bring honor to his father's legion, but also to find out if anyone knows what happened to the legion, what happened to his father. Along the way, Aquila grows greatly in understanding and courage. He finds that courage is easy with a whole legion around you...it's harder when it's just you and a companion pursued like animals by the men of a British village. He comes to know British people in the south and north (the south was conquered, the north free); a British girl being forced to live in the Roman way; his uncle, a retired Roman legionaire; and a wolf that is given to Aquila as a tiny puppy after its mom is killed by hunters.



The pup does more than more than any other part of the book in establishing the reader's trust in Aquila. Yes, a person may most certainly be evaluated by how he treats his dog. The pup also reinforces a main theme of the book--that love and trust must be a choice and cannot be enforced by ownership papers or leashes. Aquila gives the pup a clear opportunity to be free and still the puppy returns, with love, to stay with him.

The journey to the north to find the eagle also gives Aquila time to solve another critical life issue--what is he going to do with his life? An injury drove him from the only life he ever knew or wanted, a military career with the legion. The eagle quest is his hero journey, by which he comes to know himself truly as an adult. He gains talismans and loses treasures, but his greatest achievement is knowing his own future course.



Aquila's friend Esca deepens the theme of freedom. Esca, an unwilling gladiator, is saved and then purchased by Aquila as a slave. Their deepening friendship encounters many difficulties. The two men are from radically different cultures, social classes, and belief systems--all of which orbit around the central question: Can a free man and the slave he owns be friends? What can you ask a slave to do that you could not ask from a friend--and vice versa? Finding the answers to these questions is an important part of Aquila's growth, and also Esca's. Does being a slave determine your whole life?

But the best thing of all about this book is the writing. If it had been my book, and not the library's, I would have marked all over it to note the location of beautiful passages of prose. "He was desperately homesick for his own land; for now that they seemed lost to him, his own hills grew achingly dear, every detail of sight and scent and sound jewel-vivid on his memory." "Jewel-vivid." I am jealous of that phrase.

In discussing the phenomenon of being conquered, Esca says, "We know that your justice is more sure than ours, and when we rise against you, we see our hosts break against the discipline of your troops, as the sea breaks against a rock. And we do not understand, because all of these things are of the ordered pattern, and only the free curves of the shield-boss are real to us. We do not understand. And when the time comes that we begin to understand your world, too often we lose the understanding of our own." Beautifully put.

Esca, telling the story of the disappearance of the 9th legion, says, "But the mist was creeping down from the high moors, and the Legion marched into it, straight into it, and it licked them up and flowed together behind them, and they were gone as though they had marched from one world into--another."

Aquila's sacrifice of an emblem he has carried since childhood--a bird carved of olive wood--returns to the jewel imagery: "The golden sparks that he struck dropped onto the tinder-dry scraps of birch bark, and hung there an instant like jewels; then, as he blew on them, nursing them to life, they flared up into crackling flame; a flower of flame with the olive-wood bird sitting at its heart like a bird on her nest." Sutcliff's writing is like the sparks that catch and flare. Her command of detail give the book a sterling authenticity.