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Battle of VIMEIRO
PART ONE
Chapter 1
CORK
June 15, 1808
Wellesley’s force at Cork went into transports 6/15.
Beckwith had been good to his word. Sharpe had his orders to join the second battalion. Lieutenant Colonel Hamlet Wade reluctantly had accepted the exchange of quartermasters. After the experience in South America last year, Wade had wanted to keep his quartermaster with him and the remaining companies of the battalion. And, Wade’s quartermaster wanted to remain in England. Sharpe’s exchange did solve his problem of who to send with Wellesley’s force. Wade knew that Sharpe had served with Wellesley in India. Sharpe was an officer only because of Wellesley. It seemed only fitting that Sharpe should go with Wellesley. Traver’s four companies from Wade’s battalion had been sent on the way to join Wellesley’s force to God only knew where. Wade drafted orders for Sharpe to join Travers and Wellesley’s force assembling in Ireland. The voyage to Ireland was fast, only four days from Folkstone to Ireland. Sharpe had returned to Ireland. It was midday as the packet entered harbor, Sharpe looked out on the land ahead.
“Fifteen years since my first trip to Ireland. Arrived at Kinsale” He said to no one.
A sailor who overheard him replied, “Kinsale is to the south. This is Ballyvoloon. Port for Cork.”
Sharpe nodded to the sailor “Came as a recruit. Trained at Kinsale.”
“Recruit, sir? You and officer, now?”
“Yes, an officer.”
“Recruit to officer. Never heard of such. Good on you, sir.” The sailor moved away without saying more as his own officer was staring towards him.
Sharpe smiled, then turned back to look at the land. He thought about how much had happened since his first trip.
“Wellesley was only a Major then. Now, he’s a lieutenant general.”
“I came as a recruit. Now I’m a lieutenant. Each of us up three steps. He smiles at the comparison.
“Not quite the same steps, though.”
When the ship docked, Sharpe waited his turn to debark. He carries only his pack and rifle as baggage so, is able to leave the ship while others wait. On the wharf he sees a young, red-coated ensign. The ensign appears to be waiting for someone from the ship. Sharpe approaches him.
“Sharpe, 95th. Where may I find Major Travers.”
“Tennant,38th, sir.”
“95th are aboard that ship, there.” He points to a ship further down the wharf. “But, they ain’t there. Major lands them every day. Marches them up the hills. Afternoon, brings them back.”
Sharpe looks to the ship, then the hills. “Thank you.
“Any Quartermasters ashore?”
“Don’t know. Might find them at Cohan’s public house. Our Quartermaster, Captain Hume, goes there.”
Sharpe decided that since Major Travers had landed and was in the field until evening, there was no one to whom he can report. He would find other quartermasters first.
And, since he had not had a decent meal since he boarded ship, he could eat. He slung his pack over a shoulder and set off to find Cohan’s. Tennant had pointed in a direction away from the docks. Sharpe didn’t know how far Cohan’s would be, but he had the whole afternoon to find it.
At the end of the wharf, he began to pass tradesmen and officers from other regiments. The officers looked at him as he approached. They all wear red coats. Sharpe wears the green coat and uniform of the Rifles. Only two of the roughly one hundred regiments in the British Army wear a green coat. Sharpe is a novelty among the others. Two of the red-coated officers stare longer than others. Sharpe notices that they are captains.
“Pardon, sirs. Where may I find Cohan’s?”
The shorter of the two responds. “Cohan’s? Hundred yards that way. Turn left. Can’t miss it.” He points further down the street.
“95th Rifles are you?”
“Aye, sir. 95th.”
“Ain’t Travers got you in the fields with the others?”
“Just arrived, sir.”
“Well, Cohan’s is a good first stop. Eat hearty. Travers’ll wear it off you with his marching to and fro every day.” The captains both chuckle at the remark.
“Thank you, sir.” Sharpe replies as he salutes while bidding farewell.
He followed the captain’s directions and shortly found Cohan’s. The building was three floors tall, narrow and situated between two others. A door was located to the left of the building’s center and a large window filled the space to the right. Sharpe could see people sitting at a table inside the window.
“Looks busy.”
As he watched, two men came out of the door.
“May be room for me after these two.”
Once inside, he notices that the building is longer than it is wide. The space holds tables and chairs with nearly fifty men sitting, eating, drinking and talking. Sharpe decides that he will find a table, eat, then find the other quartermasters. Rapidly he moves to claim an empty table along the wall not far from the window.
He places his pack on the table while he watches for a serving girl to pass near. Standing he is able to look over the tops of most of those that are seated. Many wear red-jackets. A few wear naval coats. His table is at the opposite end of the room to where the food is prepared. While he watches three different women emerge from the cooking area carrying trays with food and drink. As each approaches a table, he gestures to attract their attention.
A soldier at one of the tables at the middle of the room sees Sharpe’s efforts. As the latest server passes, he tugs on her apron. She stops abruptly ready to swing her empty tray at him, Before she makes contact, the soldier points to Sharpe.
The girl looks in the direction that she is shown. Sharpe gestures that he wants to order something to eat and drink. She nods and starts towards him. He signals to the soldier thanks for helping him as the girl approaches.
“Wha’ c’n I be getting’ ya sur?”
Sharpe had noticed that the servers had brought platters with either a fish or a meat pie.
“Meat pie. Ale.”
“Meat tis sheep, na beef.”
“Sheep will do.”
The girl turns to get Sharpe’s meal.
Before he sits, he surveys the uniforms of the soldiers in the room. Groups at two different tables wear coats with yellow collars and cuffs and silver lace like Ensign Tennant wore.
“Eat. Then find Hume.” He thinks as the server brings his meal.
While he eats, he watches the two tables of red coats. None of them appear too eager to leave. He ate the meat pie enthusiastically after having had only ship’s stores during his trip from England. The ale was different than what he expected. It was dark. Almost black. He had asked the server what it was.
“Stout. Irish beer. Ya’ll like it.”
And he did.
Between bites of pie and drinks of stout, he watches out the window. He notices as people pass. He is curious why a group of women stand together on the side of the street. The group avoids any men that pass near them. Doxies would pursue men. And the women wore clothes better than most doxies.
When he finishes, he pays, grabs his pack and approaches the nearer table of red coats that may help him to find Hume. The officer, an ensign, that had helped him and two lieutenants and a captain sit at the table. Sharpe knuckles his forehead to them.
“Sirs, would you point me to Captain Hume of the 38th?”
The captain points to the other table.
“Ya can find Hume there. We’re with the 29th.”
“Thank you, sir.” And to the ensign “And thank you for helping me with the server girl.”
The ensign beams a smile. “No trouble at all.”
Before Sharpe can leave, the captain asks, “Since you wear green, are ya with the Rifles?”
“Yes, sir. Second battalion, 95th, sir.”
“Would you happen to be Sharpe?”
Sharpe hesitates before he answers. Since he was promoted from the ranks, not all other officers treat him with the respect they give to other officers.
“Sir, yes, I am Sharpe.”
“Well, gents, Heard rumors that a real hero was to join our merry force. Sharpe here has seen battle. Saved Sir Arthur at Assaye, what?”
All four of the officers stand to shake Richard’s hand and clap him on the back. The captain finishes last.
“Well done Sharpe! Well done!”
Sharpe blushes and says nothing. Rarely do other officers praise him. He is not of the society that almost all the officers belong.
“The 95th and 29th will venture together. I hope that we can serve together, Sharpe Up from the ranks or not, we hear that you know how to fight. Our colonel Lake served in India too. Talks of the ‘fighting soldiers’ like him that are now come to fight Boney. Soon as these damn winds let us leave we will find which of us are fighters, eh?”
Sharpe sees the men preparing to leave from the table where the captain pointed.
He nods towards the other table. “My respects, sirs. I will join you again another time.”
“Yes, yes. On your way Sharpe.” The four watch him go, then return to their table.
Richard goes to the other table before the men can leave.
QUARTERMASTERS
“Sirs?”
The captain who has his back to Richard turns towards him. When he faces Sharpe, he pauses, then smiles briefly.
“Sharpe?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You don’t remember me, eh? Captain Hume. Once of the 33rd, Light Company when you was a recruit.”
Sharpe does not recall Hume. He trained with only Wellesley’s company.
“Now an officer. And I hear you’re a quartermaster, like us.” He sweeps his arm to the others and back. We supply the army to march and fight. Others get to be heroes and famous, eh?
The other officers say nothing while Hume finishes. They appear embarrassed by Hume’s comments.
Hume turns to the others, then back to Sharpe.
“We are quartermasters from eight regiments here at Cork, Sharpe. General Hill’s 5Th, 9th, 38th., General Craufurd’s 40th, 71st, 91st General Fane’s 60th, and your 95th. I represent the 38th.”
He turns to the others.
The closest to Sharpe says “Marklew, 5th.”
“Glover, 9th.”
Hume continued. We represent our regiments. Captain Douglas of Wellesley’s staff tries to set us straight on what the army needs, what and how much each of us gets to satisfy our colonels. Wellesley told Douglas and me that you seem to have done well as a quartermaster in India when you weren’t off fighting, eh?”
Hume’s words continue to anger Sharpe. He’s not sure why Hume has reason to resent what he has done. But, from the time Sharpe enlisted, he learned to reply to sergeants and officers, but with as few words as necessary.
“Yes, sir. Quartermaster’s assistant. Fought in some battles.”
“Well, Wellesley seems to think you can show us how a real quartermaster gets things done. Douglas gathers us each day. Here. Gives us the latest on what we have, wants and needs and when we may sail. Those that can stay to eat. Food here is vastly better than ship fare.”
He turns to the others to invite them to add a comment. When none speak, he continues.
“We’ll see you tomorrow at eight o’clock, sharp, Sharpe.” Hume grins at his attempt at humor.
“Tomorrow. Eight o’clock. Aye.”
Hume leaves. Markew and Glover wait until he leaves. Glover says to Sharpe.
“Welcome to our happy band, Sharpe. Hume dislikes anyone that Wellesley favors. Seems he feels that had he not been sent to the West Indies, he’d be a general and hero by now, too. Douglas does not share that same view.”
Markew adds,
“Shame though. Hume is second to Douglas. All of us other quartermasters are lieutenants, ensigns or sergeants only.”
“Travers should be back from his romp in the hills before long. They dawdle past here on the way to their ship. Boats will be waiting for them. Can wait here or at the boats. Until tomorrow, Sharpe.” Glover adds before the three leave.
Sharpe considers to have another black beer, but chooses to leave. Outside he sees Hume talking to one of the women who had been waiting. She turns towards Sharpe as he leaves. Hume notices her movement and follows her. Hume says something curtly to her then takes her arm to lead her away.
Sharpe wants to assure that he will meet Travers before they board the boats. Although he would like to join them as they return to town from the hills, he could miss them. At the boats seems a better place to intercept the companies. He hefts his pack and rifle and walks back to the docks. After asking a dockhand which ship’s boats would carry the 95th back to their ship, he learned that the boats would arrive in nearly an hour at this spot. Sharpe thanked him and looked for a place to wait.
As he had been told, after an hour’s wait, four boats arrived from one of the transports. They pulled to the dock and tied up. The crews of each boat climbed out and stood waiting.
Sharpe approached one who appeared to be a petty officer.
“Do these boats carry the 95th?
“Aye, sir. We do. Major Travers and his boys will be along shortly. We waits until they arrive, no matter the time though. Takes us four or five trips to haul them all to the ship.”
“Thank you. I will join you today.”
“Wondered if you would, you wearing the green like the major. Sit until signal ye. I’ve sent one of my men to scout for the major. My man will let me know when they come.”
Sharpe returned to the spot from where he had waited before.
Although he had hoped to wait a short time, the sailor scout did not return for nearly two hours. The petty officer motioned for Sharpe to join him.
As he arrived at the boats, he could see the first files of green-clad soldiers marching to them. Sharpe watched as each company arrived. The first company divided into four parts and began to board the boats. The second company moved into the space after the boats had pushed off.
Sharpe looked to the back of the column to find Major Travers. Behind the final company, he found Travers talking to that company’s captain.
Sharpe approached the major and waited. When the major finished with the captain, Sharpe saluted.
“Lieutenant Sharpe, reporting, sir.” he said crisply.
“Ah, Sharpe. Heard you were to join us for our next adventure. Colonel Wade sent word ahead to expect you.”
Travers turned to the captain.
“Captain Edge, may I introduce you to Lieutenant Sharpe, our new quartermaster.”
Edge extends his hand to Sharpe
“Pleasure to meet you Sharpe. Welcome.”
“My pleasure, sir.” Sharpe replies.
Travers says to Edge.
“Sharpe shall join us aboard ship. Help him to get the feel of the battalion, will you?”
“Yes, sir.”
Edge addresses Sharpe. “Follow me Sharpe. Once aboard ship I’ll acquaint you with Sergeant Stiner your quartermaster sergeant. Until now, he has been representing you at the quartermasters meetings. Good soldier Stiner. For now, we wait for the boats.”
“Thank you, sir.” Sharpe was unaware that he had a quartermaster sergeant assigned.
Edge smiled, then turned to see to his company.
Sharpe waited near Travers without either saying more.
Sharpe watched the boats go to and from the ships. Two companies were taken to one ship, but the third and now fourth companies were taken to another. To his estimate, he would bunk with Travers, two captains and six lieutenants. As the last arriving, he would have little space, based on his trips back from India and Denmark.
Travers had Sharpe ride in the only boat without another officer aboard. He watched as the seamen pulled at the oars. Seated between the sailors were maybe twenty men of Edge’s company.
When the boat has reached the side of the ship, the coxswain of the boat instructed him to leave first. Sharpe had boarded ships before so knew how to grab the lines and climb to the deck. In rough seas, it could be dangerous, but today was calm. With his pack on his back and rifle slung over a shoulder, he quickly climbed out of the boat and aboard ship. On deck Edge signaled him to follow to the officers’ quarters. Below decks, they made their way aft to the officers' quarters. The space between the sides of the hull had been divided into four stalls on either side of an aisle that led aft. Each stall was five by seven feet. Canvas screens divided each.
“Officers quarters. Another row of eight behind these. Major and captains in the next row. Wardroom for ship’s officers are aft most.”
“Lieutenants in this row.” Edge points to a stall against the hull. “Yours, Sharpe. With you, eleven of us now. Stow your kit. The major has us join him for dinner. Ship’s captain made space for an officers’ mess. Ship’s Captain’s cabin is above us.” Edge points up.
“Will see to the men before we eat.”
“Sir.”
Edge walks away to his lieutenants and sergeants.
Sharpe looks at the stall. A hammock is hung from the beams diagonally across the space. Against the rear wall is a box to stow his belongings. He places his pack and rifle in the box and secures them so that they will not move during rough seas.
“Edge says Sergeant Stiner has been doing quartermaster work. Should find Stiner.”
The transport is not a large ship. The officers’ quarters are separated from the others by screens. A door in the middle of the screens controls access. Beyond the screens, Sharpe looks to see who has sergeant stripes. Many of the men are cleaning their equipment. All that he sees have rifles and swords. Within one group, he notes a sergeant who has neither.
Sharpe walks to him. “Sergeant, Stiner?”
The sergeant looks to Sharpe.
The sergeant notes Sharpe’s rank, but does not recognize him. “Sir?”
“Are you Sergeant Stiner?”
“Yes, sir. Sergeant Stiner, sir.”
“Lieutenant Sharpe.”
“Aye, sir. Heard you were to join us.”
“Here, now. Here tell that you have been seeing to quartermaster duties.”
“Yes, sir. Seeing to quartermaster needs since we left Hythe, sir.”
“Tomorrow, after we eat, show me your tally books.”
“Yes, sir. Tomorrow. After morning meal. Tally books. Sir.”
Sharpe turns to go back to his bunk.
Stiner watches him go. He has heard about Sharpe. Knows that the officers don’t care for him. Not a gentleman. Not one of them. Up from the ranks. Sharpe will know the tricks that other ranks quartermasters often use to benefit from the role. Stiner doesn’t worry. He has been a thorough and honest clerk before and after he joined the army. His books are all in order. Tomorrow he will show Sharpe that he can be trusted.
At his hammock, Sharpe finishes stowing his pack and rifle. He estimates that he has some time before he will join the others for dinner. One lesson of being a soldier he has learned is to sleep and eat when you can. He climbs into the hammock to rest until the ship’s bell chimes.
Although he has closed his eyes, he listens as other officers enter the space. None of the others approach him. He’ll wait to meet them in the mess.
When the ship sounded three bells, Sharpe knew that it was time to go for dinner. When he returned from India, he had learned a ship’s bells while aboard Pucelle with Captain Chase. Four bells of the first dog watch was when evening meal is served. He’ll have thirty minutes to walk the deck and then to find their officers’ mess.
He walked past the other three stalls without seeing anyone else. At the top of the ladder, he walked the deck to the rail. The crew on watch were at their stations, but had nothing to do while they were at anchor. Noises of tables being prepared for the companies to be fed rose from below. Aboard ship the men would be fed well. These meals would come from the army supplies. If they remain in port long, Stiner and he will have to replace them before they sail.
After looking to shore once more, he left to find the captain’s cabin. When he traveled on Pucelle, he had shared Chase’s cabin, so he knew where to look. Quickly he found the door. On Pucelle a pair of marines guarded entry. Travers used two riflemen to guard his mess.
“Lieutenant Sharpe.” He stated to the guards.
One of the guards saluted with his rifle while the other opened the door. Sharpe entered the room to find only Major Travers.
“Sharpe.” Travers greeted him. “Edge set you well, eh?”
“Set well, sir.”
“Good. The others will join us shortly. Be seated. Edge’s company sits to this side. Join his lieutenants.”
Sharpe noted that Edge sat to Travers’ right. He chose the fifth seat after Travers, but remained standing until the others entered. He didn’t have to wait long.
Shortly, Edge and his lieutenants entered. Behind them came another Captain followed by four lieutenants. The nine of them went straight to their seats. Travers bid all to sit, but he remained standing.
“Gentlemen, I wish to introduce our new quartermaster, Lieutenant Sharpe. Please stand, Sharpe.”
Sharpe rose and nodded to each side of him to acknowledge the greeting.
“Thank you. Please sit. You’ve met Captain Edge.” Travers looks to Edge.
“Please introduce your lieutenants. After, Captain Packenham if you will do likewise.”
Edge stands.
“Pleased to, Major. My first is Thomas.”
Thomas nodded to Sharpe. As did each officer as he was introduced.
“Next is Hayward. Then Lodge.”
Edge then turns to his left to cede to Packenham. Packenham stands.
“I’m Captain Packenham, 2nd Company. To my left is Lieutenant Cox, then Johnson and Pinder.”
Packenham sits. Travers stands again.
“Finally, next to you is Lieutenant Creagh who serves as my staff officer.”
“Gentlemen, shall we eat?” Travers signals to the officers’ stewards to begin to serve.
Sharpe eats quietly while he listens to the others talk of the events of the day in the fields. Travers shares his observations of what went well and what they need to continue to improve. Sharpe knows that today he eats from the food that was bought from moneys that were given by each officer. He will need to contribute to the future meals. It will cost him some of the gold that he brought with him from Copenhagen.
While he considers what it may cost him, Creagh asks.
“You and I are the odd ducks, eh? The others can talk of their companies.”
Sharpe remains quiet. It is rare that officers want to talk with him. When the officer is the same rank as he, they often are much younger. They question why he has not purchased to a higher rank. To answer that is to talk about his joining the army and serving in the ranks. When they learn that he came from the ranks instead of buying his commission, they avoid him. And when an officer is older than he, they usually wear higher rank and they envy his experiences and skills on the battlefield. They too avoid him. He decides to let Creagh talk.
“Neither of us has our own steward, eh?”
“No, no steward.”
“I share Lewis, the major’s. He attends the major first. Suspect he’ll serve you today too. Would you consider forming our own steward fund? We could lift a man from the excused duties list, eh?”
Sharpe considers what Creagh has asked.
“First time I’m not in a company’s mess. Don’t have many funds to contribute. Not sure I can afford to pay for half a steward. Maybe could pay for fifth share of a company steward if one of the companies will share.”
Creagh frowns.
“Was hoping that we could have our own. The major keeps Lewis very busy. I do appreciate that I don’t have to contribute to pay for Lewis, but I am last served of everything at the mess table. You too will be, I suppose.”
Sharpe suspects that he will be served last no matter who is steward to him. He has learned that he will have to wait to eat and drink.
“May I give you an answer later?”
“Yes, yes. Later will do.”
Sharpe remains silent while he and the others finish the meal. He listens carefully to Travers and the company captains reviewing the training.
Travers and the company officers discuss the day throughout the meal. Some of them had fought in South America at Argentina. All had fought in Denmark. They discuss how they trained before combat and what they learned since. Sharpe listens and compares to what he has learned during eleven battles.
Travers concludes the reviews when the food is consumed. Taking a glass in hand, he stands.
“To the King.”
All respond. “To the King.”
Creagh adds “And, death to the French.”
“Death to the French.”
Travers closes with “Gentlemen, I bid you a good evening. Until tomorrow.”
“Until tomorrow.”
Sharpe returns to his bunk. He will rest. “Tomorrow I will be a quartermaster.”
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