Disclaimer: These are works of fan-fiction created for entertainment. It is not the intention of the author to infringe on anyone's copyright. No rights infringement intended. Warning: General Audience

The Sharpe Fan Fictions of Paul K.

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Bernard Cornwell’s

SHARPE’S banquet

Richard Sharpe and the
Waterloo Banquet


Novel by Paul Kaster

1822 19th June

Chapter 11
London




Sharpe did sleep well. He ate breakfast at the Golden Lion again. For some reason, the food and tea tasted much better today. As he ate, he thought about the events of yesterday.

“Almost thirty years since I joined the army. Private to colonel. Never dreamed this when Lieutenant Devlin told me privates can be promoted to be an officer.”

As he eats, Harper walks into the Golden Lion, finds Sharpe then comes to join him.

“And a grand, fine morning to you colonel, sir.” Harper beamed his greeting.

“Still same man, Pat. Ate breakfast, yet?”

“No breakfast yet, colonel sir. Happy to join you, sir.” he says with the same big smile. He signals to the serving girl to bring the same meal for him.

“Find more entertainment with Baird and Pumphrey last night?”

“So we did. Pumps knew of a club that served members at any hour. Did finish before sun came up. Last I saw Baird, slept in a chair and Pumps was off with other friends.”

Harper’s food came. As he ate he asked, “What do you think Simmerson has to say about this?”

Sharpe hadn’t thought about Simmerson’s opinion, nor did he care. “Simmerson’s a general. Retired now. Never really cared about the regiment except for how it could make him money and fame.”

“Still, a poke in his eye that you are colonel of HIS regiment, eh?”

“Don’t care. South Essex is OUR regiment Pat. We rescued it from Simmerson. Lads fought the battles including stopping the Guard at Waterloo. Simmerson had nothing to do with them.”

“I’m to go to Horse Guards before the Palace. Lawford said that I may borrow a sword to wear for the ceremony. Brought no weapons with me.”

“Lawford will have a better sword than that cavalry bastard that you have.”

“You made that bastard for me, Pat.”

“So I did. Nasty bastard it is. Not fit for court.”

“Join me to Horse Guards?”

“Nothing better to do. Baird won’t be awake much before time to be to Court.”

“Eat up. We may have to wait at Horse Guards some time.”



They walked the fifteen minutes to Horse Guards. Sharpe had visited Horse Guards several times during the last decade. During the war, the office was always full of men waiting to meet with the Secretary of State for War and the Colonies Henry Bathurst 3rd Earl Bathurst or one of his under secretaries. They came to seek posting to new commands because they have been on half pay, were post to go overseas to a location that they wanted to avoid or wanted to curry favor to be promoted.

Today, the room holds only a few men. When he registers with the clerk, the clerk says, “You may go in now. They are waiting for you.”

Sharpe knew that Lawford was to meet him. Who else would be there?

Inside the room Harper and Sharpe are greeted by Lawford and Wellington.

“Mr. Harper, it is good to see you again, Have you brought any horses to sell with you?”

“Thank you, sir. No horses this time. But, I am always ready to bring my finest for you. And for a fair price.” Harper says to Wellington.

“Colonel Sharpe, the King will promote you today. Court expects our officers to be turned out correctly.”

Sharpe looks at his uniform. He had worn his best dress uniform with the wing epaulets. On other occasions, he had not worn the crown and star on each epaulet to signify that he is a lieutenant colonel. Around his neck, he wears the Order of Saint Vladimir Second class. After Waterloo, Wellington awarded him for rescuing Fox at Ham. The Czar had sent to Wellington to give to a deserving officer. The Order is a red enamelled cross pattée with black enamelled borders, and a black enamelled central disc bearing a crowned red and ermine mantle with the monogram of Saint Vladimir. He wears it on a necklet.

“You seem to have put everything together except the sword and your rank.”

Lawford steps forward. “Some time ago, when I visited Messrs Hopkinsons of St Alban’s Street, they were reminded that I am your friend. They informed me that they still held your presentation sword from the Patriotic Fund.”

Lawford held the sword for Sharpe to take. He had not seen it since the last time that he had been presented to the King. He had been given the sword as a reward for capturing the French Eagle at Talavera. Even now, he feels uncomfortable with such a flimsy, over-decorated blade. In the field, he preferred to carry the sword that Harper had forged for him.

Sharpe takes the sword. “Thank you, sir.” and then hooks the sword to his belt.

Lawford continues. “It seems that you are short two stars.” He reaches to the desk to collect two more starts.

Wellington takes them from him to pin onto Sharpe’s epaulets. “There, Colonel Sharpe, you are fit to present to the King. Better that I pin this to you than he, eh?”

“Thank you your Grace.”

“Lawford will you see to Sharpe’s duties as colonel. I must join the King before the ceremony.”

“My pleasure, your Grace.”

“Until this afternoon, gentlemen.”

After Wellington is gone, Lawford says “Sharpe, as colonel of the King’s Own South Essex, you are in financial charge of the regiment's allowance from the government. This means you could hope to make a profit on the funds allocated for equipment, supplies and uniforms. But, there will be no funds to the regiment. You will receive 11 shillings, 3 pence per day as half pay. Which is twenty-one pounds per month”

“That’s more than I was paid when I led the regiment in Spain.” he realizes.

“What will become of the regiment?”

“After Napoleon was safely put away on St. Helena, the War Office decided that we did not need either a large army or navy. By 1818 almost all of the regiments and additional battalions raised during the war were disbanded. Any regiment that was sponsored by a royal was an exception. Now, the current government wants to reduce costs further. The other regiments will disband their extra battalions. The South Essex is the only regiment raised during the war that was not disbanded. It will be now.”

“And the men?”

“Of course, Sharpe, you would ask about the men. At Waterloo, the regiment lost many. With the war over, we stopped recruiting. The survivors, barely half of regimental strength, were sent to Chelmsford. Harry Price, as the senior major, took over after you went to France. No many of the men were given the choice to leave the army. The South Essex is not much bigger than a company.”

Sharpe thinks about the many of the men who had served with him since Talavera.

Harper asks, “So where is Mr. Price now?

“Harry found a good woman, retired on half pay, married and has three children.”

“Mr. Price married?! With kids?! That will keep him sober, eh sir?”

Lawford laughs. “Was Harry ever sober a day in the army with us?”

Harper answered, “Harry came to us before Fuentes d’Onoro. Don’t know how he found drink every day. Always on the edge of Mr Sharpe’s rule to us about getting drunk. We needed permission. Drunk or not, Harry best lieutenant we had.”

“Yes, after Dally lost his leg, Harry did well as our major.” Sharpe said.

“The last of the men and officers will be given to the 44th East Essex.”

“When?”

“Happened start of the month.”

“Any that Pat and I know left?”

“Huckfield. Charlie Weller, Fitzpatrick, Geoghegan, O’Farrell, Flaherty, Malone, O’Neill. ”

“God Pat! Your Irish criminals stayed this long! What did you not teach them?”

Harper laughs. “Taught them that the Army is better than starvin’ in Ireland. Surprised that ‘Pigface’ Malone stayed though. Thought that he’d to home first chance.”

Sharpe says to Lawford, “Possible to send them a meal and drink?”

“It can be done.”

“Make sure that they get it? Not into someone else’s pocket?”

“I know some trustworthy people.”

Harper says, “Not Simmerson’s people?”

“My word, no Pat.” Lawford laughs.

“Too little time after Paris to say goodbye to the men.” Sharpe asked. “Give you a number? Draw on my new pay?” “Certainly. But, now we should go to the Palace. Bad form to be late to be promoted, eh?”



At St. James Palace, they were greeted by a Chamberlain. Sharpe remembers waiting in the same room nineyears before.

“Colonel Sharpe, you will be first to see the King today. . I will explain what you must do.” Last time, he was the last to see the Prince.

The Chamberlain then described all that Sharpe was to do.

“The musicians will begin just prior to when the King arrives.”

“When called, advance to yellow line.”

“Bow. Address the King as “Your Majesty.” then bow again.”

“The King will address you with your new rank.”

“You bow again, then you step backward until you reach the Lion’s Tail.”

“Hold your scabbard so that you avoid tripping as you back away.”

He remembers these same steps from when he met the Prince of Wales before.

Unlike last time, no one is waiting in front of him. And, the King has not yet arrived. Harper and Lord Lawford are here with him. As they wait, Lord Pumphrey and Sir David join them. Shortly after, Lady Anne and Sir Alan arrive.

Sir David, brushes the epaulets on his uniform. The shoulder wings of his uniform have the crown and two stars to signify that he is a full colonel.

“Full dress, eh Sharpe? New rank looks good on you.” He looks down before adding, “Still have those ratty boots, eh?”

Sharpe looks down. He has worn a pair of French cavalry boots for so many years. “Like my skin, sir. Worn them for so long.”

“Served you well, they have.”

Before either can say more, the music begins. The Chamberlain calls them forward to the room that they will meet the King. The Duke enters and then the King.

When the King has taken his seat and signaled that he is ready, the Chamberlain signals for Sharpe to advance.

When Sharpe reaches the yellow line, a courtier announces him. “Colonel Richard Sharpe, Your Majesty, assigned to the Prince of Wales Own South Essex!”

As before the King wears the uniform of a British general.

The Duke wears his dress Field Marshal uniform.

“Is he as uncomfortable as me? Blue frock coat is more to his liking would think.”

The King grins a huge grin. “So good to see you again Dick. And today you are a colonel. Well done, sir, well done!”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Arthur here recommended this for you. Last night, when I learned of your contributions to all of Our victories, I thought that maybe We should do something more for you.”

Sharpe looks to Wellington who seems to be as surprised as Sharpe.

“Come forward Dick and kneel.”

Sharpe is stunned, but obeys. He goes forward, then kneels on his right knee.

The King takes his sword from its place next to his throne and approaches Sharpe. He stops when he stands before Sharpe.

“To all present, I present to you Our humble obedient servant who has helped to bring us victories for nearly thirty years. As King I reward him with the title of Baronet Richard Sharpe of Wapping.“

Many in the room gasp before others begin to applaud.

Sharpe is stunned. He raises his face as the King lays his sword on Sharpe’s right, then left shoulders.

Lewrie says to Anne, “Mine arse on a bandbox, they’ll make anyone a baronet, eh? Mine was a mistake. Sharpe has earned his.”

“Yes, Alan, he has.” She recalls the first time she saw Sharpe presented to King George.

“How far he has come. How far we all have come.” She reflects.

The King backs away so that Sharpe may stand. As he does he sees that Wellington is applauding with the others. A brief smile appears on his face as he nods to Sharpe.

“Bloody Hell! That’s the most emotion I’ve seen on Nosey in years.”

He finally remembers that he is to bow and withdraw. When Sharpe reaches the Lion’s Tail. He starts to turn. As he does, he hears the King call out.

“Huzzah for our Dick! SIR RICHARD SHARPE!” The King claps vigorously and signals that others should too.

As he slowly steps backward, he hears Harper call out. “Called you ‘sir’ for years. Now others must too!”

Those that hear him laugh and clap a bit harder.

He is glad that he has turned. The thunderous applause is too much. Tears form in his eyes.

Slowly he goes. Behind him the applause dies and the music begins again as the King prepares for the next people to be presented.

In the outer room, he waits. Harper is the first one to come through the door. He strides to Sharpe and gives him a bear hug.

“Christ, sir! A baronet! Christ!”

“No different, Pat. Title changes nothing.”

“Oh, but it does, sir. It does.”

Before he can say more, Lady Anne and Sir Alan come to them.

“My dear Richard. A baronet? And, Lucille a Countess. What will she say?” Anne smiles sincerely. In her way, she is proud of what Sharpe has become.

Sharpe is still too stunned to have thought about what Lucille will say.

“Sharpe, congratulations! When the King’s father made me baronet, it was a mistake. He was crazy at the time. Yours is like Sir David’s. Earned.” Lewrie steps forward to shake his hand.

As if on cue, Sir David enters the room to join the celebration.

“Good Christ, Sharpe! From flogged soldier to baronet. Good Christ! What a success story you are. What Walter Scott could do to tell your story. And he a baronet, too. If not Scott, someone someday should write your story. Would be there with the great classics, eh?.”

Sharpe doesn’t know who Walter Scott is, nor does he care. He didn’t ask for this. He will be happy to go home to his family. Being a baronet will not change how most of the titled British will see him.

As if he has read Sharpe’s thoughts, Lord Pumphrey appears next to him. So that others can’t hear him he says,

“Baronet Sharpe, Richard? Think that London society will treat you any better than they have before? I’ve had a title all my life. But, because I prefer the company of men to women, well let’s say, I am viewed as an outsider. But, when society has the need for dirty deeds done, they call for you and me because they know we can do the deeds.”

Sharpe knows some of Pumphrey’s history.

“I don’t care about British society. I’m going home.”

“Good for you Richard. Take the money and run, eh? Good for you.”

When Pumphrey finishes, Lady Anne comes to talk with Sharpe alone.

“Alan, Patrick and Sir David have found a source of whiskey. I prefer the French today. As do you every day.” She shows him her glass of champagne.

“You tease me, Lady Anne.”

“So I do, Richard.” She smiles before she softly says.

“We share many moments. Now, I think of you as a great friend, dare I say even family.” Before he can speak, she continues. “As much as I wanted you and I to succeed, we could not. Two different worlds.” She pauses to look at Sir Alan before she continues. “I once called you an alley cat. Do you know that Alan’s nickname is ‘The Ram Cat’ He and you share many traits. And, his world is much closer to mine. I will always cherish your and my relationship. Never hesitate to ask for my help.”

Sharpe blushes. He has always been drawn to Anne. But, he knew that they were very different.

“One more thing, do you know of your wife?”

“Jane? No, I don’t. Don’t care.”

Anne can tell that Sharpe is about to shut her out.

“She was a fool. Lord Rossendale died at Waterloo. Didn’t know that she carried HIS child. She went to his mother after the child was born. Lady Rossendale turned her away. Jane had no other refuge than to return to Simmerson. She now is nothing more than a servant in his household.”

“Bugger her and Rossendale.” He is surprised that Simmerson had not mentioned this when they had met again in India and before Sharpe saved Simmerson’s life. Would have been typical of Simmerson to rub salt into a wound.

“She named the child Gibbons. A girl.”

Sharpe doesn’t care, but is pleased that she didn’t give the child his name.

“Thank you, Lady Anne. Think its time we should join the others.”

“Yes, someone has to keep Alan, Patrick and Sir David in condition to walk from here.”

“Yes, and sober enough to explain to me what it is to be a baronet.”

Anne chuckles.

“Walk with me, Richard. There is a court servant in the next room who has the symbols that you will wear as a baronet.” He pulls at his sash and medal to show what Sharpe will be given.

“Go with Sir Alan, sir. I’ll care for Sir David. He wants to accept Sir Alan’s offer to try that American whiskey again.

Sharpe follows Lewrie to the next room. As Lewrie had told him, he is greeted by a man dressed in court finery.

“Welcome, Sir Richard. And, may I add my congratulations to you, sir.” A senior courtier says.

“May I take your, coat sir?”

Sharpe nods. The other moves to remove the Sharpe’s coat. He turns to a table to pick up a yellow sash. He holds it in front of Sharpe in a manner that he could place it over Sharpe’s head. “If I may, sir.”

Since the courtier is shorter than Sharpe, he bows so that the other may place the sash.

The courtier places the sash so that it sits on Sharpe's right shoulder and passes under his left arm. He then replaces Sharpe’s coat. “If you prefer, you may wear the sash outside your coat, sir. However, most wear it under.”

He then retrieves a silver-and-cloisonne’ star from the table and then pins it to the left breast of Sharpe’s coat. When he finishes he steps back out of the way.

“We have prepared documents to confirm your awards.” He holds two documents. “This first confirms that you are now colonel of the Prince of Wales Own South Essex regiment. This second confirms that you are the 1st Baronet of Wapping.”

“1st Baronet of Wapping. Bloody Hell! How did I get so lucky. Wapping? A joke?” He thinks. “Doesn´t matter. Still a baronet.”

“Now you look ready, Sir Richard.” Lewrie says. “Shall we go? Sir David and Harper have large thirsts. I promised them some whiskey to celebrate.”

As they leave, Sharpe pats the baronet medal. “Sir Richard Sharpe. Bloody hell.”

Then he goes to join the others.

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