After her ship is damaged in a storm and she is thrown ashore, American Anne Morgan finds herself stranded on a French beach shortly after the end of the Napoleon’s final rampage through Europe. She is rescued by a regiment of British riflemen, member of The Prince Consort's Own 95th Regiment of Foot.
It is led by the handsome and dashing Major John Hamilton, a recent widower whose unhappy marriage left him with a jaundice view of women. With the help of his best friend, Regimental Sergeant Major Daniel Browne, the two are wed, thus beginning the saga of these unforgettable characters as they chart their way through the highs and lows of life, love, and the complicated societal norms of post Napoleonic England and America.
Reviews
"It seemed strange; for all these years they had obeyed someone else’s orders and their lives belonged to fate. Now it belonged to them."
Historical fiction comes to life in this vintage tale of adventure, love, loss, and new beginnings. It is the story of a young American woman and an English soldier whose lives are brought together by fate. Their shared experiences fill the pages of this book that whisks readers back in time to Europe, England, the Caribbean Islands, and America.
The chronicle is set in the early 1800’s. Anne is a passenger aboard ship when a violent storm literally tosses her overboard into a raging sea. She manages to stay alive long enough to wash up on a French beach. British Riflemen, on a long trek to Calais after having survived the Napoleonic War, find her and nurse her back to health. The unit’s leader, John, is initially only worried about the woman’s health. But during their journey, Anne’s independence, determination, and resolve, cause John’s feelings to escalate from concern to respect to infatuation and, eventually, to love. Before their travels end, those feelings will be mutual.
Author Robinson shows a particular talent for catching the tenor of the times. Her descriptions of atmosphere, place, and environment are filled with authentic detail, as is her recreation of the behavioral norms of the period. Her writing has a restrained quality that feels absolutely appropriate for the story being told. Plus, this tome is only the beginning, merely the first in a series of books that revolve around Anne and John’s life together. Aficionados of historical fiction who find this sort of narrative appealing will likely want to seek out subsequent volumes, as well.
In 1815 two Americans, Anne Morgan and her mother, leave Virginia to sail on the Sea Breeze to Northampton, England. A violent storm overtakes the vessel. All are lost at sea, except for Anne who miraculously washes ashore on a beach in France. British soldiers returning home after the war rescue her. Their commander, Major John Hamilton, decides to help her, so long as she can earn her keep as camp cook while the troupe makes their way to England. From there Anne would resume her journey to Northampton.
In the meantime, Anne becomes acquainted with all of the soldiers, except for John. Both Anne and John keep their distance even though they’re attracted to one another, and for good reason since they’ve experienced heartache from previous situations. As a result, both are afraid to love again. During one of the troupe’s skirmishes en route to England when John is wounded, and Anne attends to his injury, the two grow close, confess their love, and soon marry. John retires from the army now that the war over. While John is skeptical about settling in his hometown of Nottingham, things become most disconcerting when John and Anne make their way to Virginia and no one from her family is there to meet them at the port.
Author Laurel Robinson pens an unusual post-war love story in the first book to The Eagle and Lion saga. Set in the early 19th century, The Eagle and the Lion: A Strange Turn of Fortune captures all the stiff social etiquette and stoic sexual norms befitting the period. Irony is added to the mix when a British army commander extends kindness to an American caught in the throes of misfortune. Sexual tension is light and slowly builds as John and Anne come to terms with their attraction.
Robinson divides her plot into three sections with renumbered chapters, Robinson’s predictable plot focuses on visual storytelling over tight dialogue to keep a steady narrative flow from beginning to end. The detailed portrayals serve a dual purpose. Weaving factual information—the sights, sounds, and smells of a distant era—into fiction is first and foremost. Robinson does a stellar job making the period come alive with vivid pictures across the board (i.e., places, food, and clothing). Concurrently, she provides clarity to her colorful cast—her protagonists (Anne and John), as well as her cameo and supportive characters.
Cliffhanging chapters slowly but consistently move one to the other and are punctuated with quickly-resolved twists and turns. Closing on a great lead-in to the next installment of Robinson’s saga, The Eagle and the Lion: A Strange Turn of Fortune will not disappoint for those who enjoy a piece of historical fiction replete with descriptive language.
The ship shuddered violently and lurched starboard. A blood curdling scream pierced the dark followed by a crunching thud. Then, there were only the sounds of the sea, the wind and the ship’s tackle. A sailor had been shaken from his perch high on a yardarm and had fallen onto the deck of the listing ship; killing him instantly. Suddenly, a huge wave crashed over the deck. Before she could react, Anne and the dead seaman were swept over the railing and into churning brine.
The shock of the cold seawater enveloping her body shocked her senses. She struggled to control it as she held her breath. She tried to swim up but her heavy dress kept dragging her down. She couldn’t breathe! She could feel air bubbles against her face. Seconds seemed like minutes, her lungs were aching; screaming for air!
Fear took hold; how much longer could she hold her breath? Suddenly she was lifted up and on top of a wave. She quickly gasped a breath and the pain in her lungs was instantly gone. She had just enough time for a breath of air when she was plunged back into the water. Down under the sea she went. She struggled to swim upwards, foam and bubbles everywhere! The dreadful ache of her lungs desperate for air returned, but her mind refused to give way and she held on. Just when she thought she could hold her breath no longer, she was back above the waves again and being thrown violently about. She tried to roll on her back to keep from going under. Her heavy skirts dragged her down but this time not as far. She struggled frantically back up to the surface and rolled onto her back. She gasped for air and coughed. The taste of sea water filled her mouth.
She floated, tossed about in the waves, and panting to catch her breath. The sky above was pitch dark, the sea violent and the waves crashing. In the distance, she thought she heard the sounds of screaming above the howling wind. She looked up, but could see nothing in the dark but an angry ocean. She instantly knew it was a mistake. A large wave rolled over her and once again she was dragged down under the waves. Fear once again took hold and her lungs ached. Just when she thought she couldn’t last another moment, she was back up on top of the waves again. Fresh air filled her lungs just before she was plunged back down again.
But this time a new emotion overtook her, she was no longer afraid, she was almost angry. She had stayed afloat before and she would do it again! The more she fought the stronger her determination grew. She was angry now and told herself that Poseidon himself would have to come for her before she would surrender to a watery grave! She told herself she was not going to drown; she was going to survive! She fought and fought to rise to the surface and this time when she was tossed up above the waves, she instantly rolled onto her back again. She didn’t make the same mistake of trying to look around, but instead remained flat on the waves. She gathered her skirts onto her stomach and held them tightly. It was working, barely.
She was still being tossed around, but she was not sinking. She lay on her back, panting until a wave doused her with salt water. She choked and coughed, but controlled her fear and stayed flat on her back. She placed a hand over her mouth to keep out the salt water as her face was continually sprayed by the waves rising and cresting around her. It was awkward with one hand clutching her wet skirts and the other covering her mouth. It caused her to roll around more, but she remained afloat and she could breathe without inhaling salt water.
But now a new threat presented itself, the icy grip of the sea began to drain the warmth of her body. She shivered and her old nemesis, fear, returned with despair lurking close behind. She struggled to control her thoughts, but as she grew colder, it was becoming more and more difficult.
The waves continued to batter her about, tossing her around like a feather floating on the waves. It seemed an age and she was quite cold when a large wave caught her and tipped her upright. She was fully prepared to begin her battle once again when she was thrown forward and down into the water. With the mighty force of a breaker smashed her into the sand. It was a shore!
But the sea was not willing to let her go. The surf that had given her the hope of salvation now dragged her back. Once again she was pulled up into the wave and once again slammed down. But this time she swam hard using the force of the wave pushing her forward to her advantage. She was now closer to the beach and her feet touched the sand. As the waves receded she dug her hands and feet into it to keep from being dragged back with it. Her anger gave way to hope. Slowly she swam toward the beach, again using the surging waves to push her forward. The water was first at chest level; then at her waist. Just when it seemed she was safe a new problem presented itself. As she struggled up the shore the heavier she became. Her wet clothes weighed her down and caused her to stumble. She waded in the waist high water, fighting the surges and retreats until she could walk no further. Dropping to her knees, she crawled though the shallow surf, with only her head above water. As the waves crashed in from behind it pushed her forward and she would swim farther up the beach. Onward she crawled until she was sure she was out of the clutches of the sea.
Exhausted, she stopped and flopped down on the sand to rest. The night air felt warm against her cold body. She lay for only a few minutes when yet another wave crashed up the beach and surrounded her covering her face and filling her mouth with sand. It came so quickly that she swallowed some sea water and instantly retched. Coughing and spitting sand she crawled again, away from the surf, clutching and yanking her heavy wet skirts until at last she could move no more. She collapsed, panting, and then everything went dark.