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Warning: General Audience |
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PART V
Chapter 20
DECEMBER 1794
NETHERLANDS - IJZENDOORN
Arthur Wesley sat in his to tent to write the latest into his journal. “At present, the French keep us in a perpetual state of alarm. We turn out once, sometimes twice, every night; the officers and men are harassed to death. I have not had the clothes off my back for a great time and generally spend the nights on the banks of the river.”
He scratches his thigh were his trousers have rubbed the skin. Dipping his quill into the ink pot, he continues.
“After our engagement at Boxtel, the Duke of York called us to a council of war. We received word that Pichegru had a large force of about eighty thousand men moving to turn our left. This force, if truly those numbers, would be twice what we have. York shared that the Austrians were stationed where the French were moving. Our council advised the Duke to send General Abercromby to Gennep on the Meuse to maintain contact with the Austrians.”
“When Pichegru did attack Clayrfayt, General Jourdan pushed Clerfayt’s army back behind the Roer which gave control of the west bank of the Rhine to the French. Rather than extend our line further, the Duke directed Abercromby to return to Nijmegen.”
“My brigade held Ijzendoorn while General Abercromby marched. I remain confused about the orders we receive. At Boxtel, our force under General Abercromby lost only ninety men. Only ninety men. And, two thirds of those that we lost were taken prisoner. That day and each time since, when our men encountered the French, we bloodied the French noses.”
Each time Arthur, dips the quill into the inkwell, he must pause before writing. His emotions are so high that his arm quivers with the anger that he feels for how poorly the army is being managed. He raises his head, breathes deeply then resumes writing.
“When the Austrians withdrew, they left a garrison at the fortress of Maastricht. Our Duke of York had proposed to launch an offensive while the French laid siege to Breda. Clarfayt refused each and all of the Duke’s plans.”
“From his new postitions, Clayrfayt agreed to retain communications with our Commander-in-Chief. Communication would not suffice. York cannot stay forward alone. With each withdrawal, the Austrians move further and further from our army. With no support on our left, York too had to withdraw. Our leaders blame the reverses of the summer on the Austrian commanders. This time, it is clear that it is our choice to retire. Many of our officers and their men can not understand why we have ceded such good positions. They criticize York and our generals, especially Abercromby, for not being aggressive enough.”
Wesley paused long before he wrote next, “But, it is clear that we must conserve our force. We are not as numerous as the armies of the continent.”
“While we sit here on the Waal, thirty miles from headquarters, I have much time to assess our own faults and the defects of our own systems. I am left here to myself with my brigade. I do not think that the Commander-in-Chief has once visited us.”
“As I review the past months, I think that the infantry regiments, including my 33rd, the 12th, the 42nd and the 44th were good in proper hands, but the system is wretched. And, there have not been enough ‘proper hands’. From September to December, York has rid our Army of poor officers. Among those, York arrested four officers that embarassed themselves during the fight at Boxtel and since. They were tried for cowardice. Yet, it is still not enough. Too many of the officers know little if any of their professions. We need officers who can execute the same orders that they give to their men. This war with the French has only just begun. I must prepare myself to do better with those that I command. London will need to make many changes if we are to win.”
“Now, York is gone. At the end of the month, London summoned him home. York took the time to say farewell to us from his headquarters at Arnhem.”
General Harcourt replaced him. We are a split force as the foreign troops have gone to General Walmoden who is senior to Harcourt.
“The Dutch and Hessians have not fared well since September. The Dutch fortresses were in bad condition. The Prince of Orange proposed to have our British troops garrison the fortresses while he deployed Dutch troops in small packets along the border. York declined. The Dutch quickly surrendered the fortresses although they could have held. Now the French live off the Dutch provisions while we suffer here in the fields with what little food we can manage.”
“York had us build a bridge of boats across the Meuse so that we may escape the French. While we were crossing, one of you officers mistook French cavalry as some of our. We lost many from the 37th regiment and cavalry while the Dutch watched.”
“Now it is winter. The Dutch fail to support us. Our army tries to find comfort in barns or the hollows in the open land. Only the Guards, 14th, 37th and 53rd have great coats. But even many of these are little comfort as the fabric is very worn. Many of us officers have contributed our personal funds to collect almost a thousand pounds to buy clothes for the men. What they can’t get from our largess, the men plunder from the civilians. This can not be tolerated. The civilians grow more openly hostile to us each day. We are in their country. We can not succeed if we turn them against us.”
“ The cold is too much for some of the men. We lose men each day to the cold and typhus fever. The sick are being sent on barges from Arnhem. Reports have come to us that many are left unattended. The surgeon’s mates charge the government for wine for the sick yet often consume it for themselves. The sick gain no comfort.”
“Recently, the French crossed the Waal in boats. Our picquets were alert and warned us. We were able to form ranks and beat them back. I am encouraged that we have the ability to defeat the French, but need a better system. My own regiments are depleted by frostbite and fever. I have directed Sherbrooke to promote those that have shown leadership to replace our losses. This winter will be difficult. Good leaders will help us to survive to Spring.”
“Sherbrooke brought a list of men he wants to promote. I requested that he assure that they are men who will lead and are of good character. He said that they meet these. Most of those that he recommends have been with the regiment for some time. One that he recommends, a boy named Sharpe, proved himself well at Boxtel.”
Arthur finishes writing and then looks at the paper.
“Sharpe. Richard Sharpe. Seem to remember him from Kinsale. Young, but shows promise. We shall make him a corporal. See what he does.”
Arthur pauses, then continues to write in his journal.
Richard Sharpe looks at the white shoulder knot that adorns his right epaulet. Today, Sherbrooke promoted several men to fill the gaps left from battle and disease.
“Christ Dick. Corporal Hall moves up to Sergeant to replace Hawthorne. And from all the regiment, they pick you to take Hall’s spot. Now we need to respect you when you tell us to do something.” Tom pats Sharpe on the shoulder where he wears the white cord.
“Don’t know why they picked me. Didn’t do anything.”
“Dick, you were barking out commands at the foggy battle place like you been a soldier all your life. We did what you told us. Look how it turned out. Those bloody French came at us. When ya asked the sergeant to let us shoot, we hurt them back. Someone else must have seen or heard ya.”
“Crowley and Courtney won’t be happy to have to lick your boots tho’.”
“Too cold to lick anyone’s boots. Tongues will stick to the leather. May not have boots too much longer. Mine are falling apart.” Sharpe looks to his feet. His right boot’s sole has sprung loose. “Time to tie a rag around this one.”
“Yes, weather is damn cold. Coats aren’t warm enough. Boots falling apart. Food doesn’t come all the time. Generals keep moving us backwards. Won’t let us take anything from these Dutch. Almost be good to fight the French to take from them.”
“Be careful what you wish for Tom.”
“Well Christmas is near. I wish for warm clothes and a hot meal.”
“Good wishes for us all, Tom.”
Five days after Christmas, Tom sits with Richard. “Damn it, Dick! Today we get to hit the French. We get to do something other than sit in this cold.”
“Didn’t you wish for warm clothes and a hot meal. We got the hot meal and then two days later it turned so cold the damn rivers froze. The French crossed the ice to hit the Dutch. They ran. Now we get to hit the French to send them back across the river.”
“I heard from Lieutenant Horton that Colonel Wesley has us and the 3rd and 44th to push the French. Says too that Wesley is losing the 44th. They going to the Indies.”
“H’India?”
“No, Indies. The ‘Fever Islands’. Same place our Grenadier and Light companies went.” Tom reminds Sharpe.
“They go to die from fever in the heat. Here we die from the cold. Should be the French that die from us killing them. Maybe our colonel or the generals will get it right this time.”
“Yes, we get to freeze here with the Black Watch and the other dress-wearing regiment, the 78th. We are the only real English soldiers here now.” Sharpe pauses. “Dresses or not, they march well and know how to use their bayonets. Would rather serve with them than to have to fight them.”
“Yes, let’s hope that today we get to fight with them. I’m tired of only marching with them.”
JANUARY 1795
NETHERLANDS - METEREN
Arthur Wesley sits writing his reports and recording new entries to his journal. “All is quiet here. Last night an empty boat floated down the river which is the only extraordinary circumstance. It was a very small one.”
“I intend to go to England in a few days, that is to say, if the French remain quiet, and if the regiment is relieved from the advanced post upon the river Waal, where it has been for above six weeks.
“On the eve of the new year, a force of size of nearly two thousand French attacked across the river at Bommel. The Dutch garrison offered no resistance and ran. Some didn’t stop until Utrecth. The French advanced to Tuil. With a force of Hessians and another under General Cathcart, General Dundas was to lead us from three compass points to destroy the French at Tuil. The conditions that the other two forces faced prevented them from reaching Tuil. With no support, Dundas still chose to attack with only our force. I am proud to say that we advanced with bayonets only. The Scots are quite familiar with fighting like this. My own 33rd was second to neither of them in the discipline they showed in the advance. The French were defeated and driven from the field.
“Four days into the new year, the French sortied against our outpost at Meteren. They surprised the pickets from five Companies of 33rd.. Several men were taken prisoner while the others fell back to Geldermaisen to join the rest of their Regiment plus Black Watch,78th Highlanders. Once they reformed, with the help of two howitzers our brigade hit the French who shortly retired. Even though we restored the line, the following day we were ordered to fall back beyond Leck.”
“At present the French keep us in a perpetual state of alarm we turn out once, sometimes twice, every night the officers and men are harassed to death, and if we are not relieved, I believe there will be very few of the latter remaining shortly. I have not had my clothes off my back for a long time, and generally spend the greatest part of the night upon the bank of the river, notwithstanding which I have entirely got rid of the disorder which was near killing me at the close of the summer campaign.”
“Although the French annoy us much at night, they are very entertaining during the daytime. They are perpetually chattering with our officers and soldiers, and dance the carmagnol upon the opposite bank whenever we desire them but occasionally the spectators on our side are interrupted in the middle of the dance by a ball fired from their cannons.
“Sherbrooke reports that of the nearly one thousand men we had in August, we can rely on only eight hundred. Fewer than a score have been lost to wounds. The majority have been lost to illness.”
“January is nearly finished. We have retired nearly ninety miles. The men continue to suffer from this harsh winter and too little food. The commissariat has collapsed. I have ordered that no one is to steal from the local inhabitants. Our officers throughtout the army are too lazy or indifferent or maybe sympathetic to prevent the men from taking what they can find. When supply wagons do arrive, marauders from every regiment, ours and our German allies, swarm them like ants until nothing is left. Morale is low. Yet, some units remain in good order. I am proud to say one such is the 33rd.’
“Tom. I can’t feel my feet. My boots have hardly any leather. Mostly my feet are wrapped in dirty rags.” Sharpe had just returned to the shelter that his company used when they did not stand guard.
“Dick, none of us have good boots.”
“Just spent the past four hours walking the sentry line to keep them alert.
“Sergeant Bickerstaff had us make sure our men keep moving. He was told that some Hessian sentries were found frozen rigid at their posts.”
Charlie Connors added, “Yesterday, some of us were with the 78th to dig latrines. Ground was like stone. Couldn’t make a hole with any of our tools. One of the 78th said that that big bay where the Dutch keep their navy froze. French cavalry rode on it like it was a road. Captured the whole Dutch fleet.”
“Cavalry captured a fleet!? We stopped French cavalry at that place Boxtel. Must be we did better than the Dutch navy.” Tom said. “They didn’t have Corporal Sharpe to stand up to the French.” He grins broadly at Sharpe as he finishes.
Sharpe coughs in disagreement. “I would not have made a difference. Can’t imagine me ever being in a fight on a ship. Now, just want to get warm. My feet hurt terribly.”
Tom says, “Maybe your feet got frozen. Should go to see the surgeon. Can go to see Crowley.”
“Crowley was sick with fever. Bickerstaff sent him to the surgeon. Been there three days now. Bickerstaff checks on our sick every day.”
Tom looks at Sharpe’s feet. “Dick, your feet look bad. Show Bickerstaff. You should go see the surgeon. If your feet do freeze, you may lose toes or part of your foot.”
Sharpe looks at his feet. He decides to see Bickerstaff.
Andrew Trevor is the battalion surgeon. He examines Sharpe’s feet.
“Yes, your feet are swollen. It appears that you have first degree frostbite. Do your feet feel numb?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You need to warm them. While they rewarm, they may itch and burn terribly. Skin may slough off in a few weeks. For now, you stay here.”
Sharpe finds a cot, then sits. He is happy to be able to sit in a warm place for a while. It sounds like he won’t lose any toes. At the end of the room, he sees a soldier who was not as lucky. The soldier has lost the toes of one foot. A bandage wraps his foot but ends where his toes should be. The soldier plays a tune on a flute. Sharpe hears the music while he rests.
“Always liked music in London. I wish that I could play the flute. Seems easy enough. Maybe someday.”
Next to the soldier playing the flute, another soldier starts to call out.
“Just what the army needs. Corporals to play us music at bedtime.“
Sharpe recognizes Nate Crowley’s voice. Richard declines to fight with Crowley. “Good to see you are getting better, Nate. Fever is a nasty thing. I’ll be waiting for you back at the company.”
Before Crowley can reply, Sharpe leaves to find another room to sit.
FEBRUARY 1795
NETHERLANDS - COEVORDON
The 33rd is attached to Major General Fox’s division and billeted at Coevordon. Fox described the place as ‘forlorn and unprovided situation’ and dangerously exposed. The soil froze so deep that no trenches could be dug or ramparts built.
Arthur Wesley would agree with Fox. The French were close. The rearguard will be withdrawn to Bremen. But Arthur Wesley will not join them. He will go home.
For weeks now, he has recorded his thoughts on the campain.
“I have seen almost none of the generals since the start of the new year. I have seen only David Dundas, and then rarely.”
“The men’s morale suffers despite our efforts to take care of the them. Food and clothing lack. Discipline failed in many battalions. Men who had no food or drink raided the countryside. The Dutch civilians were subjected to rape and pillage. We came to save the Dutch from the French. Now they welcome the French to save themselves from our men. We can not succeed when the people around us fight to save themselves from us. The Commissary Department has failed completely. Food and clothing have failed to arrive. Sick and wounded that were taken from hospitals were left along the roads. Many died that could have been saved.
But, we never lacked ammunition. When the men were given the chance to use that ammunition, they used it well. My own company in the battalion particulary performed well during the whole campaign. I need to make sure that those men are used in a way to make the whole battalion strong.”
“Our strategy has been appalling. I must commit to study the art of war even more.”
“I did not learn how to fight a battle. I learned how not to fight one. I learned how steady lines of infantry against columns can win. We need to have secure supply lines. And, when the Navy is near, sea-power can support land campaigns. Our failures of this campaign are due to the faults of its leaders and the organization of headquarters.”
“At least I learned what not to do, and that is always a valuable lesson.”
APRIL 1795
LYMINGTON
March the Government called a halt to the catastrophic campaign and sent transports to Bremen to bring back the survivors.
Sharpe and the 33rd returned to Lymington, England. When they left England they mustered 1000 men of whom 113 were sick. Nine months later, they have 602. They left behind 206 corpses
Richard is happy to be out of the Flanders. Back in England, there will be warm barracks and food, new clothes and new duties for him to learn. The regiment will try to replace its losses and he will be asked to help.
SHARPE’S BROTHERS
Epilogue.
MAY 1795
ENGLAND – WARLEY
Sergeant Obadia Hakeswill was not happy. Not happy at all. While the 33rd was away serving overseas, Hakeswill had found new, able and gullible young men to feed the training sergeants in Ireland. The ensigns assigned to work with him came and went so no one really paid attention to what he did. They accepted that he was successful. Hakeswill was able to keep more than he was entitled from the recruiting moneys. He ate, drank and womanized like a wealthy man.
While the army was away in Flanders, the government had added almost fifty line and fencible regiments. Many of them were untrained due to insufficient capable officers and poorly or not clothed and equipped. When the Duke of York returned to London, he resolved to reduce the regiments to only one hundred. At the same time, the Navy was clamoring for men. York stopped all recruiting until the Navy was met its needs. Hakeswill was very good at his job of recruiting. In fact he was too damn good, but no longer needed as a recruiter. The officers that had worked with him were very complimentary of him in their reports.
Now back in England, the 33rd needed men to replace the losses in Flanders. All recruiting parties were brought back to the regiment to help fill the gaps in officers, sergeants and corporals and to train men brought in from the those regiments that were disbanded to provide new drafts to depleted regiments. Healthy men go to the regiment. Invalids and cripples will be culled and trained to recruit when the next need arises.
At Sheffield, the latest ensign had chosen to buy a lieutenancy in another regiment. Obadiah was instructed to lead his corporal, privates and drummer to join the regiment. He did not want to give up living an independent, lucrative life with all the money, food, drink and power of a recruiter. But he could not leave the army.
He was ordered to use money from the recruiting chest to buy seats on a coach. Obadiah had paid for an inside seat for himself and seats on the roof for the others. The difference in the fares went to Hakeswill’s pocket. He and the others took three days to make their way to join the regiment to the east of London.
He and the others took three days to make their way to join the regiment to the east of London. Today they arrived and were waiting to meet the regimental major. Obadiah was dry and turned out flawlessly. The other four arrived soaking wet as it had rained every day of the three day trip.
“Sergeant Hakeswill, Major Shee will see you now.”
Hakeswill entered the room that Shee used as his office. He removed his hat, tucked it under his left arm, then marched in crisply. Before the table that Shee sat behind, he halted and stomped to a halt.
“Sir!”
“Stand easy Sergeant. Served the regiment a long time before recruiting.”
“Sir, joined in ’73, sir.” Hakeswill twitches before he continues. “Served in the American War. Philadelphia and Southern Campaigns. Captured at Yorktown.” Again he twitches. “Sir.”
“Must be that you saw how the Yankee Doodle skirmishers hurt our men.”
Another twitch and then. “Doodle skirmishers. Buggers, sir. No rules, sir. No rules. Killed our officers and sergeants first. Cowards behind trees and walls. Run when we advanced on them. Cowards, sir, cowards.”
“That may be. But, they killed many good men.”
“Killed many, sir.”
“Our Light Company died in the West Indies. We will build a new one. Our skirmishers will kill many French officers and sergeants. Captain Hughes will command. See him.”
“Light Company. Kill French officers and sergeants, sir. Captain Hughes.” He shudders before finishing.
“Sir.”
“Dismissed.”
“Dismissed, sir.” Hakeswill stomps his feet and leaves the room.
Outside the room he grabs the collar of the drummer boy. “Come Jimmy, Clark, Collen, Savage. Captain Hughes wants us for his Light Company.”
Sergeant Bickerstaff had Sharpe bring Tom and the other four that he commands join him. Courtney and Crowley with their ten also joined the meeting. Crowley still looked much thinner and pale from the fever he had in Holland.
“Colonel Wesley wants to build a new Light Company. None of our boys are coming back from the West Indies. Yellow Jack killed them all. You boys did well in Flanders. Both Wesley and Sherbrooke were very pleased how you fought at that Boxtel place. Fought like Light Bobs. They are moving us with some men from other companies to join Major Hughes in the new Light Company.”
Courtney asked. “Building a new Grenadier company, sergeant?”
“Yes, Courtney. New Grenadier, too. But, you ain’t tall enough.”
“Sharpe, here could be.” Ben is not happy that Sharpe will again be in the same company.
“Sharpe is tall enough. Colonel wants him in the Light Company. Grenadiers will have to find other tall lads.”
“Some new men will join us too. They have pulled back the recruiters. Sergeant and lads that recruited you will join us.”
Tom and Dick look at each other. They remember the sergeant that collected all of them. Tom quietly says. “Was that the sergeant that twitched and had the crooked neck?”
“Aye, Tom. Tricked into joining. All shiny. Said he did all by the scriptures.”
Sergeant Bickerstaff has been a good sergeant. Keeps them in line, but let’s them have some freedom. Since the recruiting sergeant was older and with the regiment longer than Bickerstaff, Sharpe wonders how he will run his share of the company.
DECEMBER 1795
ENGLAND – LYMINGTON
Sharpe is looking forward to the new year. He and the light company returned to their barracks almost a month ago after being boarded on ships for almost two months. The middle of September, the 33rd was ordered to join reinforcements in West Indies. With the other regiments that we being sent, they had assembled at Southampton. A fleet of ships carrying them all, sailed out of Portsmouth. They were barely out of the English Channel when storms struck them.
Day passed day with them making little or no progress. Richard was luckier than many in that he survived without being sick from the rolling ship. Finally after seven weeks at sea. The Navy quit and returned to Southampton.
For several weeks, after returning to land, the light company drilled under Captain Hughes’ oversight. Hughes had prided himself on having men equally smart and fast to Wesley’s own company. Now that he has been chartered to build a new light company, he brought the best of his own company to join those that Wesley had directed from his own.
Hughes had a lieutenant and an ensign Fitzgerald,. For sergeants, he had Hakeswill and Bickerstaff. Sharpe was one of the three corporals.
Sharpe liked how they trained. He chose Tom to be his working partner. Together they learned how to go forward into a field in front of the regiment, engage enemy skirmishers or select enemy officers and sergeants, then to fall back to the regiment. Sergeants Hakeswill and Bickerstaff, the other two corporals and he were responsible to direct nine other pairs as well as their own. Each time, Sharpe’s pairs got better and better. Crowley was with Hakeswill. Courtney was with Bickerstaff. On parade, Hakeswill executed every step crisply and cleanly so that the officers that watched were impressed. To them, he was the ideal sergeant.
In the field and out of sight of the officers, Hakeswill was a devil. He would beat and bully anyone who challenged him. He definitely did not like how the officers noticed how well Sharpe’s pairs performed and how the officers noticed.
Whenever an officer would commend Sharpe or one of his men, Hakeswill would later talk to them out of hearing of an officer.
In his shrill voice, he would berate them. “Officers pet. Not special.” If no one could see he would cuff the offending soldier. When he became agitated, his face would twitch every few seconds. His eyes would flicker to the side. In a moment, the look would change from that of a child to a look of the devil. Hakeswill loved to make others miserable. If they were miserable, he could control them.
The colonel had treated them to a good meal for Christmas and gave them a day of rest. Hakeswill had made all of the men that have succumbed to his bullying to give their rum ration to him to give to his toadies. Sharpe had kept his and stood up to Hakewill for the men in his pairs. Sharpe knew that it was against the rules to save the rum ration.
Hakeswill raged against him, but Sharpe took the abuse while his men drank their rations before Hakeswill could take them. When they finished, they showed their empty mugs to Sharpe. Hakeswill erupted. He tried to beat on Sharpe, but Sharpe avoided the blows.
“Sharpe. Smart are you? Remember you. Hair on your ass, boy. Knew you were trouble. Should never be a corporal. Not a good soldier. No respect for the rules.”
Hakeswill shrieks as he speaks. “Not smart. Can’t follow my rules? You now have night guard until I tell you not. Catch you sleeping on guard, will have your back. Sleeping on duty. Flogging offense.”
“Night guard. Yes. Night guard.”
Sharpe stands in shock. While he knows that night guard is difficult, he has stayed awake before. This is only the beginning of what Hakeswill will do to him.
“Yes, Sarge. Night guard.”
Sharpe knew that he would have to turn out with no flaws. Hakeswill will do all he can to find fault with him.
Sharpe prepares his uniform to report to the sergeant of the guard for the regiment. He knows that he will need to set the sentries from midnight to six in the morning.
Each night since Christmas, Sharpe reported for guard duty. Every night, at least once, Hakeswill would try to surprise him. Each time, Sharpe passed the test. And each time, the next morning, Hakeswill would have him spend extra time on parade. For a week, Sharpe has been losing sleep.
Today, is New Year’s Day. Sharpe stands in line on parade. Captain Hughes walks with Lieutenant Raymond and Ensign Fitzgerald before the ranks of the company. Sharpe is tired having had no sleep. When he had returned from guard duty, he was able to eat the morning meal and drink some tea. While he ate, he heard Palin complaining about his insides. Some of the company had celebrated the coming of the new year with biscuit and ale that they had traded with others. Some men who did not like the stronger drink would trade their tea for ale ration.
Palin is now standing in line next to Sharpe as they are inspected. Bickerstaff, Sharpe and the other corporals stand with the men. Hakeswill walks with the officers. Hughes and the other three had inspected Palin and then Sharpe when Palin first belches and then breaks wind loudly. Hakeswill spins rapidly to the sound.
“Who did that? He looks at Palin who appears guilty.
“Captain Hughes, this man desecrated our inspection, sir.”
“Sergeant. Our men must behave.”
“Sir, scriptures say this man should be punished.”
Sharpe knows that Palin will likely be given company punishment and then be abused by Hakeswill later.
“Sir, I made the noises.”
Hakeswill looks angrily at Sharpe. “You, Sharpe. No. Palin, sir. Palin violated.”
Sharpe looks straight ahead, but addresses the officers. “Sir, I offended. Morning meal did not settle well, sir.”
Hughes looks at Palin, then Hakeswill before addressing Sharpe.
“Corporal Sharpe. I know not why you speak up for this offense. Sergeant Hakeswill is correct though. This offense must be punished.”
Hughes has liked how Sharpe manages his men in the field. But he has had to endure Hakeswill’s onending stream of complaints about Sharpe’s near insubordination to Hakeswill. Although he has never seen Sharpe show insolence to any sergeant or officer, he feels now that he needs to support Hakeswill. He turns to Raymond. “Lieutenant, can’t have a corporal who behaves this way. Step him back to private then give him punishment work.”
Sharpe is stunned that he is punished so severely. He glares at Hakeswill but says nothing.
Hughes gathers his group and continues to walk inspection. Hakeswill trails the others. He turns to Sharpe and grins before he focuses on the inspection.
When inspection is finished, Sharpe goes to his cot to rest. Before long, Hakeswill appears. Sharpe stands as he approaches.
“Broke wind on MY parade, Sharpie. Made me look bad. PRIVATE Sharpe now. Give me your cord.”
Sharpe removes the cord that marked his rank to hand to Hakeswill.
“Give it to a real soldier now. Not a babe, like you Sharpe. Tomorrow Captain will set your work punishment.”
Sharpe says nothing but glares at Hakeswill.
“Angry, Sharpie? Want to hurt me? Kill me?”
Through clenched teeth Richard replies. “No, sarge.”
“Can’t kill me Sharpie. I cannot die! I cannot die!” While Sharpe listens to him, Hakeswill tugs at the leather stock that circles every soldier’s neck. When he pulls it down, Sharpe sees an old dark scar at Hakeswill’s throat.
“The hangman's noose marks me. Hangman's noose! Hangman tried to kill me. But, I lived. Can’t kill me. Marked by God. Faced enemies. Watched men die around me. I lived. Can’t be killed. Not by enemy. Not by you.”
Sharpe says nothing. Hakeswill’s tirade stuns him, but he avoids retaliating to the sergeant’s taunts.
“Punishment tomorrow, Sharpie. Break wind on my parade. Punished.”
Hakeswill turns to go.
Sharpe watches Hakeswill leave. Before he sits on his cot to sleep, he looks to another cot. Palin sits watching him then turns his head away. Richard is angry that he was punished, but he feels good that he spared Palin another beating. Tomorrow he will learn what work he will be assigned. Now, he needs to sleep.
The regiment would train without their muskets. After the time that they fired at targets, they gave all the muskets to the quartermaster’s men to store. Each time before that they did this, they were sent away.
Tom and Richard had finished the morning meal and were walking separately from others of the light company. Today, was a day to rest and care for their kit. From behind, Hakeswill bellows.
“PRIVATE Sharpe!”
“Yes, Sarge!”
“Sharpie. Face me here.”
Sharpe marches to Hakeswill, turns to face him then stomps to attention.
“Sharpie. Captain Hughes sees fit to give you extra duties. Starting today, on days when the company is not drilling, as soon as we finish the morning meal, you will report to Lieutenant Gaff, our quartermaster. For the remainder of the day, you will serve him as he sees fit.”
Hakeswill pauses as he right cheek twitches.
“Serve him as he sees fit. You will Sharpie. Before evening meal, you will return here to me.”
“Yes, Sarge.”
Hakeswill leans in to place his face directly in front of Sharpe. “Yes, what Sharpie”
“Sarge. Days no drill. After morning meal, I report to Lieutenant Gaff. Do as he sees fit. Before evening meal, return to you.”
Sharpe stands still to await Hakeswill’s response.
“Listened to me, did you Sharpie? Heard it all. Make sure you remember it all. Go now.”
Sharpe stomped his foot, pivoted and marched away.
Lieutenant Gaff has been occupied every day since the regiment returned from the ships. All the provisions and equipment that had been moved onto the ships had to be returned to storage, recorded and matched to the records of what had been moved onto the ships. The store room is full of barrels and crates. Inside the door, Gaff had set up a table and chair to use when he recorded the counts. On the table he had an ink pot and a lantern.
Gaff had been with the regiment in Flanders. He had been with Number 3 company. After they all had returned to England, he was made Quartermaster. Gaff had attended school and worked in his father’s business. As the third son in the family, his father planned for him to support his older brothers. He wanted to make his way in the world so had asked his father to let him join the Navy or the Army. At sixteen, his father purchased a commisson as an ensign. Colonel Sherbrooke knew that his father is a successful merchant in Halifax. He also assessed that Gaff’s skills fit to quartermaster better than to serve in a line company. Sherbrooke shared that Colonel Wesley expects all records to be correct and every item to be accounted. When he came to the 33rd, the records where in disarray. The regiment had many unpaid debts. He spent many hours in his first days to set things right. Now, it is Gaff’s responsibility to keep the records straight.
Since April, Gaff had performed admirably as the quartermaster. After the return from the ships, he counted and recounted every item. The regiment has given him men to help move the items and to help count. He also has another lieutenant, Lieutenant Devlin, to help, in lieu of a Regimental Quartermaster Sergeant. Devlin had been Quartermaster for many years and had remained in England when the regiment went to Flanders. He will resume the role of Quartermaster with the recruiting battalion when the regiment is sent away again.
“Devlin, today we count muskets. There are supposed to be one thousand muskets. Four to a crate. Two hundred fifty crates. We’ve been given a private Sharpe to assist us. Have him move the crates while you count and record the contents.
“Yes, sir.” Devlin is older than Gaff, yet is junior.
Outside the storeroom, Devlin collects Sharpe.
“Private, come with me.”
“Yes, sir.”
“We will count muskets today. Follow me.” Devlin walks into the storeroom and to the corner corner of the room where the crates of muskets are stored.
“We have two hundred fifty of these crates to move, open, count, seal, and move before we finish.”
Sharpe looks at the stacks of crates. They have been stored in columns of twelve crates. Four rows of three crates per row. The second and fourth rows are laid out in cross directon to the first and third to make the column stable. There are twenty-one columns.
Devlin points to the column furthest from the wall. “We will start with those.”
Devlin removes his tunic and rolls the sleeves of his shirt. “We will get grimy Sharpe. Save yourself a report by removing your coat.”
Sharpe removes his coat and piles it on a crate next to Devlin’s.
Devlin grabs the end of the first crate on the top of the column. “Grab the other end.”
Sharpe is surprised that Devlin is joining him to work. “Sir, should you be lifting?”
“Don’t worry Sharpe. I know how to work. Was a private soldier once, myself.”
Sharpe is surprised. “Private, sir? You, sir?”
“Yes, private, corporal, sergeant, ensign and now lieutenant.”
“Sir, don’t gentlemen have to give money to become officers?”
“Most pay, yes. Some, like me are made officers for doing something extraordinary.”
“Extraordinary, sir?”
“Yes, survive a Forlorn Hope. Sacrifice yourself for others. Take charge when your officers are dead or wounded.”
Sharpe and Devlin move the crate to the floor. Devlin shows Sharpe how to remove the lid, then counts the four muskets within the crate.
“Put the lid back on. Move the crate there.” He points to a spot on the floor. “Start a new row of three crates so we can rebuild this column. And then the next column next to it.”
Sharpe drags the crate to the spot Devlin pointed. While he did, Devlin marked a piece of paper with the count from the first crate. He then stepped to the next crate on the column. Sharpe joins him to lift the crate to the floor. Devlin lets Sharpe remove the lid. Devlin counts and records. Sharpe closes the lid then drags the crate to the new column.
They repeat this until the first column has been counted and rebuilt. Neither talks through the second and third columns. When they were halfway through the fourth column Sharpe asks. “Which did you do, sir?”
“Which what, Sharpe?”
“What did you do that you were promoted to officer, sir?”
Devlin is slow to respond. “During the American War.”
“Wounded with our colonel. Held him up. Called out his orders until he couldn’t go on. Colonel told Major Dansey to see that I was promoted. Colonel died. I nearly did. I joined the regiment at the same time as the Major. He helped me to step up to sergeant. Our regiment moved from North Carolina to Virginia. I was with the wounded. Place called Yorktown. Seven months after I was wounded, General Cornwallis surrendered to the Yankee Doodles and the French. Before we marched out, the General honored Colonel Webster’s wish to promote me. He made me an ensign. Think he thought I would not recover to return to the regiment. Half pay of ensign would have given me more money if I left the army. But, I healed. Stayed with the regiment.”
Sharpe finds Devlin’s story interesting. “You were a sergeant then?”
“Yes.”
“Why make you an officer. Could they not have made you a sergeant major?”
“Yes. Don’t know why. Half pay of ensign is more. The major had helped other wounded men get money when they could not serve any more. Maybe he wanted to help me too.”
Sharpe and Devlin move more crates before Sharpe asks, “Sir, how long were you in the army before you became a sergeant?”
“1775 I was a boy tending sheep. Watching sheep is not exciting. One day, recruiting party came to our village. Heard the stories of adventures of being a soldier. Next year, we were sent to the Americas.”
“General Howe took us to Pennsylvania to take their government city. We fought them four times. We beat them every time. But, their light infantry used rifled muskets. They could shoot at longer distance than we could. They shot our officers and sergeants first. It was easy because the officers wore gold and silver lace on their coats and had cocked hats on their heads.”
“Rifled muskets, sir?”
“Grooves inside the barrel spin the ball when it comes out. Ball goes much straighter than from a Brown Bess.”
“Why didn’t we use them too.”
“We tried. Major Ferguson of the 71st was given a hundred men to test how to fight using rifles. The Yankee Doodles used a rifle with a long barrel. Takes time to reload. Ball must be pounded down the barrel against the grooves. Also, no bayonet. We killed or wounded many of their riflemen when we got close enough to use bayonets.
Ferguson’s men used a rifle that he designed. Saw one once. Could load his rifle from the back by turning a screw. Rifles could fire straighter and faster than the Yankee rifles. And, it could hold a bayonet.”
“At our first fight, Ferguson’s light troops did well, but Ferguson was wounded in the arm. While Ferguson healed, his men returned to their regiments and the rifles were put away.”
“After Pennsylvania, our officers and sergeants changed their uniforms so that they were not such easy targets. They also began to carry light muskets. We called them ‘fuzzees’. Seemed strange to see them firing in the line with us.”
“Didn’t you get to use a ‘fuzzee’?”
“Yes, later. In the Carolinas. We lost so many sergeants in Pennsylvania. Before we left to go back to New York, they promoted me to sergeant.”
Sharpe and Devlin moved and counted more crates.
“Sharpe, why did they send you here to work with us?”
“Sir, I was demoted from corporal.”
“Demoted?”
“Yes, sir. Sergeant Hakeswill reported me for ‘breaking wind’ on parade.”
Devlin looks at him, then laughs.”
“Breaking wind?”
Sharpe reluctantly responds. “Yes, sir.”
“You are young Sharpe to have been a corporal at all.”
“Yes, sir. Colonel Sherbrooke stepped me up after fight in Flanders.”
“Well Sharpe, must be that you have something more than most soldiers. Expect that you will get to show us when they send us to our next fight.”
“Maybe, sir. Sergeant Hakeswill doesn’t think that I am a good soldier.”
“Hakeswill. Knew him from the Americas. Watch yourself with him, Sharpe.”
Sharpe is surprised to hear an officer talk that way about a sergeant. “Yes, sir.”
They returned to the crates. By late afternoon, they had finished. Devlin, tallied the count to give to Lieutenant Gaff.
“Thank you for your help Sharpe. Return to your sergeant.”
“Yes, sir.”
Sharpe is tired, but he is curious how Lieutenant Devlin became an officer. He also wonders how far he could hit a target with a rifle. And, how many rounds per minute he could shoot if he could load the musket from the rear of the barrel. “As light company skirmishers, that rifle would give us an advantage over enemy skirmishers. Maybe, someday will get the chance to try.”
FEBRUARY 1796
ENGLAND – LYMINGTON
Arthur Wesley read the orders from Sir Ralph Abercromby.
“Disease has decimated our forces in the Caribbean. You and your regiment with the other twenty-one regiments that I have been given are to sail for Barbados. The situation in St Lucia and Guadeloupe requires a military expedition to correct. After, we resolve the issues there, we will consider attacking the Dutch settlements of Surinam, Berbice and Demerara.”
Until today, he prepared to go to the West Indies. For most Englishman, orders to go there was a death sentence. Now, he received new orders.
“The situation in India requires that we send regiments to augment the East India’s forces. The 33rd will join the 78th to sail for Calcutta by way of Cape of Good Hope.”
While disease and danger exist also in the East Indies, men survive there more often. And, for more than fifty years, since Clive won at Plassey, those that have fought and won battles have been rewarded.
Wesley contemplated what lays ahead while he finishes issuing the orders for the regiment to go. He has made arrangements to sail separately after the regiment leaves. His brother Richard has asked to talk with him before he departs for many months.
Garrard and Sharpe stand with their packs and equipment. They were ordered to prepare to sail. ”Christ Dick! They are sending us in ships again. I still ache from the last adventure. No room to move. Day after day. Sergeant Bickerstaff says we go to the East Indies. Long time on the ships.”
“Have some place important for us to go, Tom. Maybe it will be warm. Unless it is the disease islands. Weren’t good for the flank companies when they went.”
“Bickerstaff says West Indies are the disease islands. East Indies is near India.”
“India? Old woman that took me to the orphanage told me that India has tigers and tea.”
“Told me about her at least once before.” He pauses. “I like tea, Dick. Don’t know about tigers.”
“At least I can sleep with rest of you on the ship this time. Last time I had to sleep with the sergeants and corporals. Can keep away from Hakeswill this time.”
Tom smiles.
While he marches with the regiment to the docks, Sharpe wonders if there will be tigers and tea when they reach India.
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