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Warning: General Audience


The Sharpe Fan Fictions of Paul K.


Bernard Cornwell’s

SHARPE’S banquet

Richard Sharpe and the
Waterloo Banquet


Novel by Paul Kaster




1822 June 18

Chapter 8
London




Sharpe rested well. Breakfast at the Golden Lion tasted even better today.

“Good weather again. Sit in park until we go to watch cricket?”

As the time for the match grows near, he starts to walk to the field. He told Anne that he likes to walk. And, with so many from their family going, it may be crowded in a carriage. He arranged to meet them at the field.

As he walks he continues to think on how much London has changed since he was a boy and how his life has changed.

At St. John’s Wood he waits for the others to arrive. Thirty minutes before play is to begin their carriage stops at the street corner.

Rider exits and then supports Charlotte, Caroline and Arthur. Alan waits until the others are out before he gets out. He offers Anne his hand as she steps out.

“Ah, Richard. A fine day. Brought Charlotte’s whole brood.”

Richard had noted that Charlotte came with both her children.

People waiting to enter the field take notice that Rider Sandman is present. Some of the question him whether he will play today.

“Only watching. MCC has enough good players. Don’t need me, thank you.” He answers each time.

Charlotte and Arthur notice how well known Rider is.

Charlotte asks, “Do you play?”

“Not often. Before the army did.”

Arthur asks, “Were you any good?”

“Some would say.”

One man standing nearby joins the conversation. “Boy, Rider is being modest. When he played regular, he was one of the best batsmen in the game. People today will pay big to see him.”

“Is this so?” Charlotte asks.

Rider replies, “One time was not bad.

Arthur asks, “Will we see you bat today?”

“Not today. Not my day. Let’s go find seats. It is soon time to play.”

Anne has watched Charlotte and Rider. “Seems Charlotte is impressed with Rider.”

“Arthur seems more impressed, dear.” Alan chuckles.

Anne loops one arm through Alan’s and the other through Richard’s. “Yes, we should go to our seats.”

Charlotte, the children and Rider sit together. Anne, Alan and Richard sit nearby.

Arthur, Charlotte and Anne ask many questions. Batsmen come and go. MCC’s first team started the day with a large lead. When their side is out, they have scored fewer than 100 runs for a total 252.

“With 83 yesterday, second team needs to score 170.” Rider explains.

Sharpe comments to Anne and Alan as the second team bats. “First team’s bowler isn’t very good today. Batsmen are timing him.”

Alan notes and watches. The bowler does succeed to fool some of the batsmen, but the others hit. When the second team scores their 170th run, the match is over. Final score is 252 to 253/9.

“Are all matches this close?” Anne asks.

“No. When one team scores a bigger score on the first day and the other team scores very little on the second, there is a bigger difference. It is always on the team batting last on the second day to overcome the other’s score.”

“Ah.” She says. “So, we saw an exciting game today?”

After match, a man walks up to Sharpe.

“I was told that you were here.” he says.

Sharpe is surprised to see Thomas Lord and that Lord remembers him.

“More than thirty years since you taught me to bowl.” Sharpe says.

“Sir Alan and Lady Anne, may I present to you Thomas Lord, finest first-class cricket players. And, the owner of this pitch.

“My pleasure, Mr. Lord.” Anne says.

“And mine.” says Alan. “So, you are the Lord for which this field is known.”

Lord smiles, “Yes, many think that is named for some unknown nobleman. But, alas, it carries my name. Third field that I’ve built.”

“So, you’ve come back to London, Richard? Sad Lumpy isn’t here.”

“As good a bowler Mr. Lord here is, Lumpy was better. Both taught me when I was a boy. Too young to play. Left before I could.”

“Played since?”

“Yes, some in Yorkshire and the army.”

“Yorkshire?! My family came from Yorkshire.” Lord says.

Sandman watches them as they talk. He knows who Lord is.

Arthur asks, “Who is that with grandfather?”

“Mr. Thomas Lord. A very good cricket player.”

“Can we meet him? Please?”

Rider looks to Charlotte. “Yes, take Arthur. He is all agog about cricket today.”

Rider takes Arthur’s hand to go to meet Lord.

As he approaches, Lord sees him coming. “Rider Sandman! I’m surprised to see you here. Don’t come by often any more.”

“No, busy with Bow Street Runners.”

“Ah, but you do still play don’t you? Unlike me. Haven’t played for twenty years. Manager now.”

Arthur tugs at Rider’s sleeve.

“Oh, let me introduce to you, Arthur Courtney. He is Sir Alan’s grandson and a future first-class cricker.” He looks down to Arthur.

Lord extends his hand to shake Arthur’s.

“Did you play?”

“Yes. Bowler, mostly. Like Sharpe here.”

Arthur looks at Sharpe. “You played?”

“Yes.”

“He can teach you a lot about bowling, Arthur. Sharpe here is very good at changing speed on the ball while making the batsman think that it is always the same speed.”

Rider is surprised. Not many bowlers can do that.

“Would like to see that Arthur?”

Sharpe looks concerned

“Sharpe you wouldn’t mind to show the boy, would you?Rider, you can bat. I’ll gather some of the MCC lads to play the field.

The MCC players that have come to see what Lord is doing call that they will.

Some of the patrons have heard them talking too. The patrons want to place bets.

Sharpe asks the time. “I suppose I have enough time to bowl for Arthur.”

Arthur looks to Rider. “I seem to have time too.”

The people around them move with energy. The word spreads.

“Rider Sandman is going to bat against one of Lord’s students.”

It has been some time since Sharpe bowled. Rider easily hits his first tosses. As he gains his rhythm though. Rider has a more difficult time. After thirty minutes, Sharpe asked to finish. Rider and he acknowledge each other.

Lord shakes their hands. “Thank you. Thank you. The other players and spectators welcome you any time that you want to return.” He pulls them in close to whisper, “As does our bookmaker. He made some extra money on you today.”

Rider asks, “Who did he favor?’

“Does it matter?”

Rider and Richard laught.

Sharpe excuses himself. “I must go now. I have a to prepare for the banquet.”



18th June 1822 Tuesday Evening

London



Sharpe arrived at Apsley House only a few minutes before the time on the invitation. During the day, oftenat the cricket match he considered to collect his belongings and leave London. Each time he was ready to go, something inside convinced him that he should stay.

Wellington knows that Sharpe is not comfortable around all the officers of Wellington’s army. He must have a reason to invite Sharpe to attend with King George, Prince William of Orange and the many generals and colonels that served at Waterloo. So, he would go.

Lucille had made sure that he cleaned and packed the best of his old uniforms. Around the farm, he wore civilian clothes. He rarely dressed in anything fancier than a white linen shirt, black trousers and a blue jacket and only then when he went with Lucille to church or to a town meeting. As he dressed, he made sure that every detail of the uniform was correct. “Lucille will want to know that I passed muster with this lot.”

When he was satisfied, he left his room to walk to Wellesley’s house. He walks the two blocks slowly, but deliberately. As he approaches, he sees a string of carriages unloading passengers. To enter the house, he must pass the Grenadier Guards’ band. As he passed, he noted that they were playing Over the Hills.

“Hagman would approve of their choice.” he thought.

At the door, he is challenged to show his invitation. He shows the invitation.

“Welcome, colonel.”

Sharpe nods and enters.

Beyond the doors, he walks to another set of open doors. Inside, the guests gathered in the drawing room. As he enters, a servant offers him a beverage. He waves a thanks, and takes a glass of red wine.

Sharpe tries to stay to the edge of the crowd. He is more assured when he saw that other lieutenant colonels are among the guests, although the majority are generals. The men wear many combinations of red or blue coats. He is the only one dressed in green.

At fifteen minutes before eight o’clock, the head servant invites all to enter the banquet room. Sharpe follows the others. He notes that the others look at cards on the table until they find a card with their name. He chooses to look along the side of the table away from the national flags hanging on the wall. This saves him from having to walk around the table. Halfway down the length of the table, he finds the card with his name. He stands behind his chair as others find their seats. The Duke, was nearly the last to enter the room. The Prince of Orange follows Wellington. Finally, the musicians announce that King George was to arrive.

The King is escorted to his chair which is between Wellington’s and Orange’s. When the King sits, then all the others sit also. Sharpe realizes that he is in the middle of the table and sits directly opposite to Wellington. Across the table to his left are a King and a Prince. He is happy that he has sipped only small quantities of the wine that he had chosen in the drawing room. He needs to be on his best behaviour. Next to him are Wellington’s former head of artillery lieutenant colonel Wood and former head of engineering lieutenant colonel Carmichael-Smyth. He notices that all the officers below general are also in the middle of the table. To Carmichael-Smyth’s left is General Hill. Sharpe has known Hill since 1808 when they both fought their first battles in Portugal.

Promptly at eight o’clock, the serving staff enters with tureens of soup. The guests are offered two choices, one cold and one hot. Sharpe chooses the hot which happens to be an onion soup. As he eats, he thinks of Lucille who often has made a similar soup for their family.

While he eats, he notices how Wellington and the King talk to each other while Orange chooses to talk with the generals near to him. Sharpe has history with many at the table. His history with the King and Prince are awkward.

When the King was Prince of Wales and acting Regent, Sharpe had been presented to the Regent who wanted to recognize that Sharpe had taken a French Eagle. When Sharpe had pursued the missing recruits to rebuild his regiment, the South Essex, Sharpe had joined the Prince’s celebration of taking the Eagle with the recovered recruits. Recovering the recruits had unveiled corruption by Lord Fenner in the War Office. The Regent chose to protect Sharpe’s regiment by claiming them as a “Prince of Wales Own” despite the harm that Sharpe had done to the War Office.

When Napoleon had returned to France from Elba, Sharpe was asked to serve on the Prince of Orange’s staff as an exploring officer and with promotion to lieutenant colonel. Sharpe had sent one of the first reports to Wellington that the French had crossed the border into Belgium, yet the report had not been delivered. During the fighting at Quatre Bras and later at Waterloo, the Prince had ordered British regiments to advance in line formation against the French while ignoring Sharpe’s warnings that French cavalry was nearby. On each occasion, British soldiers died needlessly before they could seek shelter in woods or by forming into square formation. Sharpe was angered by the Prince’s incompetence to the point that he had shot at the Prince. Although he did not kill him, for his shot had gone high, he did wound the Prince in the left shoulder. The wound was severe enough that the Prince had to leave the field and caused no more harm. “Man should be dead like those that he sent to be butchered.”

Sharpe finished his soup. As each diner finished, a servant removes the bowl while another offered a choice of four fishes. He could choose from breaded cod, salmon, herring or oysters. He selects the breaded cod.

“First ate that when we were with Moore in Portugal.” Wood, the artillery commander for Wellington’s army, comments from Sharpe’s right side.

“Yes. Found this at many stalls in Lisbon. Took some with me when we marched into Spain.”

“Travels well. Better than other fishes.”

“Yes. I enjoy it served hot or cold.”

“Stalls here in London serve it now. Becoming very popular.”

“Living in France now. Have to get my family to make this.”

“France?”

“Yes, family there now.”

“French accept you?”

“Mostly.”

From his left, Carmichael-Smyth, Wellington’s engineer, adds, “Do the French know that you captured an Eagle?”

Sharpe is surprised that Carmichael-Smyth knows that Sharpe captured an Eagle at Talavera.

“Don’t know if they do. I don’t mention it. They know that I fought against the French. Six years ago, some French army diehards arrived at our house. Tried to hold my family for ransom. French neighbors helped to overcome the diehards. Seems they favor me over the diehards.”

“Well, French have must have learned that they cant beat us. Better that the leave you alone, eh?”

Sharpe nods, then finishes eating without talking. He listens while enjoying each of the courses that are served.

As the diners finish the desserts, Wellington nods to Lord Somerset who is seated two chairs to Sharpe’s right. Somerset stands. Somerset has served as secretary to Wellington since 1809 at the battle of Porto. Because he lost his right arm at Waterloo, he holds a wine glass in his left hand. The conversations that have been going on around the table cease.

Somerset addresses the crowd, “All, I offer a toast to George, our King. May God grace him with good health and long life.” He raises his glass.

King George smiles and nods to Somerset. The others raise their glasses and applaud with claps or by tapping the table.

When wine has been taken and the noise subsides, Somerset continues, “Also, I offer to William, Prince of Orange and our former corps commander that too God grace him with good health and long life.” He raises his glass again.

William nods to Somerset and then around the table. Again, glasses are raised and hands are clapped or tapped on the table.

Somerset waits for the acknowledgments to finish again. He turns to Wellington and continues, He turns to face Wellington directly. “Gentlemen, I give you the founder of our feast, Arthur Wellesley. Victor over the French in Portugal, Spain, France and the Netherlands.”

He lifts his glass to Wellington.

“Our own Duke of Wellington.”

All at the table, including the royals, stand to lift their glasses to Wellington. Several offer, “Huzzah!”

Wellington stands. He nods around the room before he raises his hands to his shoulders then lowers them to signal that all should sit.

He looks to King George and Prince William. “Your lordships. I am humbled. I thank you for acknowledging what our armies have done to defeat the French tyrant, Napoleon. Your support and supply of the fine men of the armies gave us the tools to achieve this victory.”

Wellington raises his glass to the royals.

Around the table, the men stand to toast the royals again.

When they sit, Wellington continues. “To our armies. We built a successful force with our Portuguese, Spanish, German, and Dutch-Belgian allies to take the fight to our enemies. From 1808 to 1815, we fought many battles together. We were set back sometimes, but the leaders in this room, learned and grew to give us the ultimate victory at Waterloo.” He raises his glass to the room.

“Thank you.”

The men raise their glasses back to Wellington.

“The heart of our armies has been the infantry. Always the biggest part of the force. No other armies fight like our infantry. Three rounds per minute in any weather. Two lines deep. Columns wither. To the infantry. Infantry commanders, please stand.”

Nineteen of the men stand. His glass goes up to themselves Those that stand nod to the others, then sit. Sharpe had joined this group.

“The cavalry provided eyes and ears to what was to our front, intervened in critical moments when the infantry needed help against enemy guns with infantry and pursued the defeated foes. Cavalry commanders, please stand.”

Seven men stand. They nod to others and then sit.

“I will include the artillery with the engineers, supply train, surgeons, quartermasters, secretaries and exploring officers. While not as numerous, without their contributions, the infantry and cavalry may not succeed. Will you who belong here, please stand.”

Seven of the men stand. They nod to the others then sit.

“There is a group that made no small contribution to our victory at Waterloo. In the future, I intend to have them join us here. Today, I can offer only that we owe a large thank you to our allies, the Prussians.”

He raises his glass towards the East.

The others raise glasses in the direction that Wellington has shown them.

“The men in this room have been with me for many years. Some of us have fought since 1794. Some have been together in India, Denmark, Portugal, Spain, France and the Netherlands. The Netherlands is where I began and finished.”

Wellington pauses for the audience to nod to each other that they knew from those fields.

“Although there are many here who have been on more than one of these fields with me, I offer that there is only one who has been on ALL of them.”

He pauses again for some to speculate who this person may be. When he resumes, he has their undivided attention.

“I suggest to you that had this man not been with me, I would not have learned some of the lessons that helped to succeed on other fields.”

He pauses as he appears to search for the next words.

“When I looked to confirm how many battles we shared, I learned that he fought in even more than forty-five battles. He fought with Sir John Moore between my time with the Iberian armies. And, I was surprised to learn that he also fought with our Nelson at Trafalgar.”

When Sharpe hears this, he is struck that Wellington is talking about him. He wonders where this is going. He has always been awkward in gatherings with other officers. So far, here he has been able to remain obscure to the room. He did not know if any of the others in the room knew about Trafalgar. Wellesley continued.

“While these all reflect on him as a successful soldier, I offer that our victory at Waterloo would not have been possible had this man not been on the field at Assaye. I was trapped under my horse and attacked by Mahratta gunners. This man risked himself to intervene. With only a saber, he killed or drove off all of the enemy. When he was finished, do you know what he did?”

No one replied, so Wellington continued.

“He apologized for pushing me out of the way. He had fought like a banshee. Saved my life. And apologizes.”

Wellington continued to look around the room. King George was focused on Wellington as a child would listening to a someone reading their favorite story.

“This man can fight. On another field, when the crisis came in the battle, this man with the men of his company captured a French eagle.”

With this comment, George looks to Sharpe.

“It’s our Dick! It must be our Dick!”

He directs a question to Sharpe.

“Is it you, Dick?”

Sharpe nods.

“IT IS, DICK! IT IS!”

“Yes, your majesty, It is Lieutenant Colonel Sharpe.”

Sharpe feels the eyes from all the room focused on him. He is uncomfortable about the attention.

“After Assaye, I promoted Sharpe from sergeant to ensign. He is now a lieutenant colonel. Each rank since, he earned. Did not buy.”

Those immediately beside him comment, “Good on you, Sharpe.”

“Although you are now retired from the army, there is one more rank that you should have. The King, the War Office and I promote you to colonel. Although you wear the green of the Rifles, and may continue to do so, you will be colonel of the King’s Own, formerly the Prince of Wales Own, South Essex.”

Sharpe is overcome. He looks around the room as if dreaming.

“Gentlemen, I give you Colonel Richard Sharpe of the King’s Own South Essex. The foundation of our victory at Waterloo.”

Wellington raises his glass to Sharpe.

The room explodes with applause. Some leave their chairs to come to shake Sharpe’s hand. King George continues to beam from across the table.

“Well done, Dick! Oh, well done!”

The applause and congratulations go on for what seems like an eternity to Sharpe. Surprisingly even some of the Dutch Belgian officers come to him. Sharpe is struck that Chassé is one. Sharpe fought against Chassé when Chassé fought with the French at Boxtel and in the Peninsula.

As people returned to their seats, Wellington addresses Sharpe. “Colonel Sharpe, I thank you for your service these many years. I came to meet you when you were a recruit. Now, here we are thirty years later. It is a pleasure.”

Sharpe has no words. He nods his head to Wellington, then raises his glass to him and to the room.

Wellington continues.

“Your Highnesses and gentlemen. This finishes our meal. I invite you to depart to the drawing room or wherever you will go next. Refreshments will be served in the drawing room for another hour.”

King George is the first to leave. All of the others wait until he has reached his escorts. Prince Willem leaves next and meets with his escort.

The Duke remains to talk with some of the people that sat to his left. He signals for Sharpe to wait for him in the banquet room.

Sharpe waits in the drawing room while Wellesley talks with people as they leave. Finally, the guest have left and it is only Wellesley and Sharpe.

“Sharpe.”

“Sir.”

Wellesley smiles. Always the sergeant, Sharpe. I hear that in your voice now. Don’t take me wrong. You have been the best sergeant that I have ever served with. And, you rose above. Wish that more of my colonels had started as sergeants.”

“Your grace.”

“Tomorrow, we will meet with the King. He wishes to be the one to promote you to colonel. One after noon at St. James Palace he will receive you. Be there thirty minutes early.”

“Your grace.”

Wellesley smiles again. “Now, be off. Lawford told me that friends will host you tonight.”

“Yes, Lawford hinted that Harper may be here.”

“Ah, Harper and Sharpe. Together again. Go enjoy the evening. You have more than earned it.”

Wellesley extends his hand.

Sharpe shakes with him and then watches as Wellesley leaves.

Alone in the room with only the household servants passing back and forth he thinks about the events of the dinner.

“I’ll be a colonel. A colonel without a regiment. Will get paid though. King of England calls me Dick. Wants to give me my step personally.”

He pauses as the idea that this is happening to him takes hold.

“Bloody Hell! What will Harper say?” He laughs.

“I need a drink. Time to go.”

He looks at his watch.

“Lawford knew what time we would finish. Said he would have a carriage for me.”



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