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PART IV
Chapter 15
APRIL 1793
DUBLIN, IRELAND
Arthur Wesley has spent the day convincing his brother Richard, the Earl of Mornington, that the money he has given him will be a good investment.
“Richard, I want to be a soldier.”
“Arthur, you are a soldier.”
“I am a captain in the cavalry. The cavalry looks handsome and prances on horses.”
“What of the other regiments? As I recall, since you were seventeen, you have been in four line regiments and two cavalry. Is this not correct?”
“Yes, As you know, I served as Aide-de-camp to Lord Buckingham here in Dublin. While I was on the muster rolls of the 73rd, 76t,h, 41st and 58th, I learned nothing of how to command. Lord Buckingham, as Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, had me attend balls and social functions. And, as you and I discussed to have me serve in the Irish House of Commons, I was occupied there representing Trim. No time to learn how to be a soldier.”
“What of that school in France?”
“Pignerol's Academy? As the official name of French Royal Academy of Equitation says, I learned how to ride and to speak French. No more.”
Richard pauses. “Does this decision have to do with Miss Pakenham?”
Arthur is hurt by this question. Since 1791, he has called on Catherine ‘Kitty’ Pakenham, the daughter of the 2nd Baron Longford. In January, he had built enough courage to ask her brother, Thomas Earl of Longford, for her hand in marriage. Thomas rejected him because he thought Arthur was a poor match for his sister due to the debts he had from gambling and no clear means to earn an income. His army pay did not support his lifestyle. Even with support from Richard, he was in debt.
Today he has asked Richard for the money to buy the rank of Major in the 33rd Regiment that is stationed at Kinsale. The 33rd is a regiment from Yorkshire that has served overseas. Its Colonel is Lord Cornwallis, who served in the America War and India, who has real experience as a soldier from whom Arthur may learn to be a proper officer.
“Yes, when the Earl of Longford rejected me, I realized I need to make my own name. I can not hope to inherit estates and money as William has.” Richard is the oldest of the five Wesley brothers. Arthur is the third son. Arthur’s older brother William had inherited the estates of William Pole who had married their great-aunt. “Nor do I want to join the church as Gerald has. I want to be a soldier. France has declared war. Maybe I can earn fame and fortune.”
“Maybe. If you fight. If you live. And your debts?
“I commit to stop gambling. I will devote myself to learning the art of war. As a sign that I am committed, I burned all save one of my violins.”
“Burned your violins? You so enjoyed playing. Father looked to you to carry his musical legacy. What despair led you burn them?”
“Playing no longer amuses me. And, I was angry. I fear that playing will distract me from my studies.”
considers what Arthur has told him. To burn his beloved violins is extreme for Arthur. “How much do you need?”
“£2,600.”
“£2,600? Is that the full price? What of the funds you will receive for selling your captaincy in the Dragoons?”
“I will use the surplus between purchase and sale to pay debts and provide funds for the mess.”
“Very well. I will give you the money. Consider the £2,600 as your birthday gift.”
May 1st, Arthur will celebrate his twenty-fourth birthday.”
“Thank you Richard. You will see that I use the moneys well. This is a new beginning.” Arthur may now join the 33rd Regiment as a major. This time, he he will do all to become a real soldier.
HALIFAX
Richard has joined the army. His stomach lets him know that he has not eaten anything for the day. “The sergeant said that after we sign in as soldiers, we will eat. I hope so.”
Richard watched as the last recruit rejoins their group.
Ensign Elliott walks to the front of the line to face them. “Welcome to the 33rd. Sergeant Hakeswill. Feed these new men, then rest them. They have a long march tomorrow.”
“Sir. Feed. Rest. March.”
“Boys, you are in the 33rd now. Kenner, take ‘em to eat, then put them in the barracks room. Tomorrow, they go to Ireland.”
Sharpe eagerly heard that they were to eat. He was surprised to hear that they were to go to Ireland. “Sergeant?”
“Who spoke? Who spoke?” Hakeswill turns. He walks to face Sharpe. His right cheek twitches rapidly.
“Was it you, Babyface? Sharpe is it? Babyface?”
“Sharpe, sir.”
“Don’t call me sir! I ain’t no officer. Call me Sergeant. Did ya speak Sharpe? Told ya not to speak unless told to.”
“Sergeant, how do we ask questions?”
“Ya speak Sir to an officer and Sergeant to me. Tis the army way. Says so in the Scriptures.”
“Sergeant, I spoke Sergeant.”
Hakeswill twitches while staring at Sharpe.
“Said Sergeant, did ya? Said Sergeant.” He pauses a moment while his face twitches again. “Smart one are you? Learn quick, do ya? Well, learn more, eh? What’s yer question, Sharpe?”
“Sergeant, why are we goin’ to Ireland?”
“To Ireland Sharpe? Because the officer says you are to go. And, soes ya can be trained. We trains ya how to be a soldier in Ireland. Best training sergeants are there. Ya’ll learn how to be good soldiers. Learn the Scriptures.”
“Scriptures, sergeant?” Sharpe knows scriptures only from his time at the orphanage.
“Scriptures, Sharpe” He turns to the rest of the line. “Scriptures. The rule book for soldiers. The Scriptures we live to.”
“Thank you Sergeant.” Sharpe watches Hakeswill without saying anything more.
“Thank ya Sergeant, ya says. Baby boy. Questions. Ya will be trouble, Sharpe. Trouble Sharpe. Training sergeants know how to fix trouble. Don’t they Kenning?”
Before Kenning can answer, Hakeswill spits in the dirt.
“Kenning, take them away.”
“Yes, Sergeant. You” He points at the man who had entered the building first. “Follow me. The rest of ya, follow him.”
Slowly the line of men follow Kenning down the street to an alleyway that leads to another barn-like building. Inside, A group of soldiers sit at rough tables eating. Many look up as the group enters. At one end of the room, a table is set up with pots, bowls and cups. Kenning points the line towards the table. “Take a bowl and a cup. Get your food. Sit there.” He points to two tables in the back of the room. Each of the men takes a bowl and cup, gets food and drink, then goes to the tables. As they walk by, some of the soldiers call to them. “Eat up boys.” “Welcome to th’ army. Ya’ll be sorry.” “Look at all the fresh meat.” “
“Kenning turns to them. “Shut yer gobs! If’n I hear nuther word at ‘em, I’ll ‘ave ya on guard detail to march ‘em to the ship.” The soldiers return to talking among themselves.
Sharpe takes his food to the table. Surprisingly, the others have chosen seats that match the two rows that they had formed for the march here. He sits between the two men that he had stood between when he arrived here. He is hungry. The meal is a bowl of oat and salt pork gruel and beer. After eating few regular meals since leaving Keighley, he ate the meal with no complaints. Some of the others at the table complained how bad the gruel was when they compared it to the meals that their mothers gave them.
The man to Sharpe’s right finished eating at about the same time. “So, Sharpe is it?”
“Yes, Sharpe. You?”
“Garrard. From Sowerby Bridge. Don’t know ya. How’d ya get there.”
“Came from Keighley.”
“Keighley? Not many travel from Keighley to Sowerby Bridge.”
“I did.”
“So ya did.”
“All the rest of these lads come from near Sowerby Bridge. Knows ‘em.”
“Some comes from Sheffield. There's a pub on Pond Street called the Hawle in the Pond It's a favorite hunting hole for the 33rd's recruiters.especially on market days. They signed up like we did. Too much ale.”
“Why you talkin’ ta me, not them?”
“Cuz I’m sittin’ next to ya. Yer big n strong. Think ya will be good to know. Some of the ‘tothers not so strong.”
Sharpe looks at him. Under the table he offers his hand.
“Call me Dick.”
Garrard grins. “Call me Tom.”
Before they could talk more, Kenning signaled for them to get up. He took them to another room in the same building. “Rest, boys. Ya eat again in six hours. Tomorrow, ya go to Ireland.” One asks, “Can we go sees the town?” “No, ya stays ‘ere. Until ya ‘re properly trained soldiers, ya get no leave to go about on yer own.”
Tom sits with Sharpe. He points around the room to each. “That one is Connors, Kendrick, Lowry, Mallinson , Phillips, Oakey, Evans, Sulley, Crowley and Palin. Think we will get to know ya soon, eh?”
Ensign Elliott and Sergeant Hakeswill meet with them at first light. Elliott gives the orders to another sergeant and privates who guard the recruits as they walk the fifty-seven miles from Halifax to Liverpool. Elliott’s dozen plus eight from Sheffield will go to Kinsale to be trained as soldiers. Along the way, they spend the nights in barns that the army had contracted for them to sleep. They stay at Bury and St Helens before reaching Liverpool. Garrard marched with Sharpe. When they rested, he introduces the others to Dick. Richard doesn’t tell any of the others that he is only sixteen. Tom was eighteen. The others range from eighteen to twenty-two. All but one worked as laborers for the gentry. Palin was the son of a clergyman who had helped his father with the church.
Three days from Halifax, they arrive in Liverpool. They join recruits from five other regiments based in Cheshire, Cumberland, Westmoreland, Staffordshire and Derbyshire. They number more than sixty men. Their guard soldiers march them to the docks to board a ship that will take them to Ireland. The guards herd them by regiment into groups in the ship’s hold. The crew had hung hammocks for them to use. They will be aboard for two days to travel from Liverpool to Kinsale.
Sharpe had only been on the boats that crossed the Thames. He had never been on one this big. The others complained about how close they were together. But, from the orphanage, he was used to living and sleeping in a common space with others. Although this space rolled side to side and rose up and down. Some of the recurits, became sick before they left Liverpool harbor. The buckets that were provided for their needs were filled quickly. They had to ask the guards’ permission to empty them.
Once they were out of the harbor, more men succumbed to the motion sickness. Richard was not affected by the motion or the smells from the gathered men. In a way, it reminded him of London. Although he ate each meal they served him, including moldy bread with bugs in it, he did not get sick.
Each day, Tom and he talked. Tom told him of his family and home in Ripon. His father was a tenant farmer who was evicted for being three days late to pay the rent. While the family found a new place to stay, he set off to find work. He tried Sheffield and Leeds, with no luck. Made his way to Sowerby Bridge where he was able to work tending sheep. The man paid little and the work was hard. Tom decided to join the army. Sounded better than tending sheep. Said he would return to Ripon to beat the landlord.
Sharpe told him about the time in London, that he remembers, with his mother and at the orphanage, picking oakum, playing ball, working the dog pits.
“So, the army killed yer ma?”
“I think so. Some woman came to our home. Told me ma was shot dead by the army. Army was stopping some mob.”
“Now ya belong to the army.”
Sharpe thinks about being part of who killed his ma. “Don’t know the army. Don’t know how she got killed. Know the army is a job. Will feed and clothe me. Can have adventures.”
“Adventures. Like goin’ ta Ireland.”
“Like goin’ ta Ireland. Maybe more. Remember woman that took me to orphanage say something about a place called H’India.”
“H’India?”
“Don’t know where it is. Long way, I suppose. She told me about all kinds of animals from there. Elephants. Tigers, Monkeys. Maybe will learn someday.”
This morning, they woke to a sailor calling out that land had been seen. When they were given leave to go on deck, Sharpe went to a rail to watch. The ship glided between land on each side. He notices what appear to be two forts – one on each side. The one to the east is larger. He asks one of the sailors. “What’s that?”
“Fort Charles. Army fort. You go there.”
“Fort Charles.”
He points forward on the ship. “Ahead is Kinsale. We dock and unload there.”
Sharpe watched the ship pass the lush, green land. Tom joins him at the rail.
“Ireland looks much like England from here, eh? Dick?”
“Same from here. Had friend from Ireland in London. She told me Ireland is beautiful, but poor.”
“Oh, so same as Yorkshire, eh?”
“Not many people leave Yorkshire. London was full of Irish.”
Tom waves to their fellow recruits. “We left Yorkshire.”
“We joined the army. The army brings us to Ireland. We didn’t choose Ireland. Irish choose London.”
“So, maybe Ireland is poorer than England, Dick. We will learn soon.” He watches the crew jump to action as the officer calls them to prepare the ship.
Shortly, the crew has dropped all but one sail as they guide the ship into the dock at Kinsale. Finally, the ship is motionless. They have docked at their destination. The guard soldiers yell at them to line up to leave the ship. When the ship was secured to the dock, and a gangway placed to connect to the land, the captain signals the guards to leave.
The corporal that commands their guards calls to them. “All right you bastards, move! Follow me!” The recruits walk down the gangplank.
Sharpe was in Ireland.
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