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

The Sharpe Fan Fictions of Paul Kaster

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Sharpe's Family
Richard Sharpe and the Battle of Boxtel
Novel by Paul Kaster, Copyright © 2021 by Paul Kaster
Based on Characters created by Bernard Cornwell.

Prologue
JUNE, 1780 LONDON, ENGLAND – CAT LANE


Richard Sharpe had started his day as he had most days. He woke in the inn’s one room that is the only home that he has known. His ma had returned to the room during the night while Richard slept. Now, she was sleeping soundly. He shares the bed with her. When he had woken, he was careful not to disturb her. Quietly, he had gone outside to relieve himself. He knew to wait until the sun was high in the sky until he could go back to the room to his ma. Until then, he would sit on the floor in a corner of the inn’s great room out of the way of customers that rented rooms or others that came to buy meals only. Sometimes men or women who had too much drink the night before were sleeping on the floor or in a chair. The inn owner, Mr. Drake, would wake them to chase the sleepers from the room or to have them pay for a meal. While Mr. Drake or those that helped him served the morning meals, they would also clean the tables of all the tankards, plates and utensils that were left from the night before. Mr. Drake liked to leave the cleaning work to others. Sometimes he would offer Richard a penny or a bowl of oatmeal gruel to retrieve things that were scattered around the edges of the room or under the stairs.

Today, Mr. Drake, is again very busy chasing those that remained to the streets. To be ready for a new group who would want breakfast, he would need to make the room ready quickly. It seems like a long time to Richard that the inn has been full of people every morning. He had asked ma why there were so many people. Ma has told him that London is the biggest city in the world. She told him that she came from Essex to find work. Many others did too. And, the King of England and family live here. When people are unhappy with how the King rules, they come to London. For some time now, many have come to protest. Richard doesn’t know what protest is. He just knows that he sees many more people at the inn than before. With so many people in London, there weren’t enough rooms to rent. Rather than sleep in the streets, many have come to the inns to eat, drink and sleep at a table or on the floor.

Richard is hungry. While his ma fed him better than most, like many here, he mostly ate gruel, bread or potatoes. Sometimes they had pease soup. He would like to eat something with meat, fowl or fish, but they are too expensive for ma. When he can, the meal is special. This morning, when Mr. Drake offered him gruel with some fish he eagerly jumped to work.

Richard didn’t know that he was working. He treated the ‘job’ as a game of ‘find the treasure’. Today’s game took more time than normal. He found the usual items – spoons, bowls, tankards--from the inn. Today he also found three pennies, a straw hat, a small folding knife and two metal buttons. He kept all of his finds to put into the ‘treasure chest’ that he kept in their room. After Richard carried the last haul of items to place in a tub near a door that went out of the rear of the inn, Mr. Drake rewarded him with the bowl of gruel.

“’ere ya go lad. Got some cod in the pot for ye today. Gives the oats more kick for ye.” Drake didn’t have any children of his own that had lived. He liked the young Sharpe boy. His mother had come to stay at his inn not long after she was able to wean the boy so she could work the streets. Like the other girls who worked the streets, Drake required that they pay for their rooms and food one week in advance. Lizzie had paid for this week.

For nearly four years, he has watched Richard grow. The boy knew when to stay out of the way and when to help. Drake watched the boy observe the room. Richard was quick to evaluate who was trouble and who was not. Although he was young, the customers at the edge of the room would offer an extra slice of bread and butter for Richard to run for another tankard of ale.

“Aye, lad. Take your bowls o’ gruel to your ma. She ought ta be awake b’ now.”

Richard carefully carried the bowls to their room. When he entered, he was greeted.

“G’mornin’ Richard.”

“G’mornin’ ma. Mr. Drake sent me with breakfast.”

“Thank ‘e.”

Lizzie Sharpe had a small wooden chair and a stool in the room that they could use when they ate. If she brought a ‘customer back to the room, she could move them out of the way quickly.

For breakfast, she used the stool as a table for Richard and her.

Ma had come to bed later than most days. While they ate, she had told Richard about the world outside of Cat Lane.

“Richard, ‘owick Place was full of so many people again. Never seen so many in one place.”

“Folk say that for days people been coming to London to join the marches on Parliament. Some Lord by name o’ George Gordon been organizin’ ‘em”.

Lizzie doesn’t know that Gordon’s supporters, who numbered close to sixty thousand, marched on the House of Commons to deliver a petition demanding that Parliament repeal the Papists Act. For two years, Gordon had been speaking against the Papists Act of 1778 that was intended to reduce discrimination against British Catholics. As a devout Protestant, he opposed doing anything that would enable Catholics in England.

This week, Gordon was denied access to Parliament, but presented the petition in the Commons. Not far from Howick Place, the crowd that supported Gordon was not satisfied with this and attacked several embassies and created random violence. In addition, groups of protestors lay siege to Newgate Prison, to protest the government imprisonment of political opposition. After several days of destruction in the Moorfields area, the government called in the army to bring order to the city.

Lizzie didn’t know any of this nor did she care. She spent her afternoons and nights in the streets of London nearby. With the other prostitutes from around the city, she tries to encourage men who visited the inns or taverns around this district of the city.

“What’s Parliament?”

“Place where many rich men meet to make the laws for the country.”

“What’s a Lord?”

“Rich man. Kings gave the man title, land and money for doing somethin’ good for the King.”

Parliament and Lords don’t catch Richard’s interest.

“Some say Gordon’s people been tearing up the city near Moorfields.”

“What is tearing it up?”

“Smashing things. Burning things. Hurting people.”

“Why?”

“People say because Parliament has laws that they don’t like.”

Richard looks in his bowl. He doesn’t really understand.

“Where is Moorfields?”

“Don’t rightly know where. Somewhere east. But, far.”

“Can I come w’you today, ma?”

“No, no. Too many people for me to watch ya. Stay here with Gertie. I’ll go after we eat. Play with the other boys. I paid Mr. Drake for ya dinner.”

Richard hangs his head. He misses his ma when she leaves. But, the boys have been teaching him a new game that uses a flat stick and a ball. They don’t have a lot of space to play, but they talked about going to a small park someday to play. Even though the stick is almost as big as Richard, he likes when it is his turn to use it. For now, they practice in the road how to block the ball with the stick.

Lizzie sees that Richard is disappointed.

“Did you find new treasures t’day to add to your chest?” Lizzie knows that Richard likes to play his game and to share his finds. She had taught him to call his finds ‘treasures’ and the box a ‘treasure chest’. When she grew up in Essex, her parents had told her stories of pirates and treasures. The local smugglers referred to the places that they hid their goods as treasure chests.

Richard looks up and smiles.

“Yeah.” He shows her the coins, buttons and knife. “Found a hat too. Gave it ta Mr. Drake.”

“Richard, such treasures! Soon ya’ll have as many coins as I ‘ave.”

Richard doesn’t know how many coins she has. He has only begun to learn his numbers. And, Mr. Drake is the one that teaches him. But, he is proud that he has his own money.

“Now, I ‘ave to go to earn some more. Go see Gertie. ‘ave fun playin’ yer new game.”

“Give you my money? Then you stay?” Richard makes a sad face hoping that the money and face will convince ma to stay.

“Thank ‘e, dear. So sweet to offer me. Tis not enough for us t’ stay here and eat. Now let’s go.”

Richard walks down the stairs with Lizzie.



Outside, Gertie is sitting on a stool. She watches a group of children playing. Lizzie has known Gertie since Lizzie came to London.

Lizzie rarely thinks of the days when she came from Dawes Heath in Essex.. She ha lived in the village of Hadliegh in the shadow of the ancient castle. Her father worked in the gunpowder mill. She had helped her mother with the household. By the time she was fifteen, her parents tried to match her with some of the local boys. Lizzie had been old enough to be married or sent to work for herself. But, she was not interested in any of the matches. One day, she saw a man with a group who had brought boxes and barrells to the town to be loaded onto a wagon. He was truly a handsome man. When he caught her looking at him, she knew that she wanted him. This man was French and worked with a crew of smugglers who brought cognac and wine past the revenue cutters to be sent to London. Lizzie succumbed to her attraction to the man. Two months later, she was with child. No local man would marry her with a child. Her parents did not want to raise a bastard. A man named Perry who transported gunpowder to London and whom her father knew, offered her parents to take her to London to find work. Perry knew a man named Burns with whom he had done business, Her father sent Lizzie with Perry. She has not seen or heard from her mother and father since.

Lizzie rode to London on the gunpowder trader’s wagon. She remembered it as several days bundled in the only clothes that she had and Mr. Perry talking about how pretty she was and that she would do well in London. When she arrived, she thanked Perry quickly, sought direction to the trader. She hoped that the letter the local priest wrote for her father would help to introduce her to this Mr. Burns. With her head lowered to avoid being seen by people on the street, she made her way to the trader’s place of business.

The building was not what she expected. The outside was very worn. As she watched, men entered and left regularly. When she had gathered her courage, she went to the door and entered. Inside was dark and lit by only a few candles. A man sat at a small table that served as a desk and entry gate. When he saw Lizzie, he had asked how he could help her. Lizzie had presented the letter. Because she could not read, she did not know what it said, but hoped that it would lead her to a job, although she did not see how she could use her skills for anything within that room. The first man took the letter to a man at the rear of the room, then returned with the letter. He gave her the letter and told her that Mr. Burns had no work for her. She pleaded loud enough for Mr. Burns in the back to hear. He had stomped angrily from the other room. She told him that she would work hard, if they gave her the chance. The angry man responded by pointing to the door.

“Go or I’ll toss you to the street.”.

With the letter held in her hand at her side, she slowly turned and left the building. She had no work, no place to stay and only a few coins, but not enough to return her to Essex. Even if she could go back, she had no home to which to go. She could not write nor get someone to write for her to send a message to her parents. Lizzie did not know what to do.

Outside Burn’s shop, she had met a man who sent her to a nearby church where she might find room to stay the night.. Outside the church, she met a woman who offered to give her shelter and food. The woman, Gertie, had taken her to an inn, The Candlestick, in Cat Lane. Lizzie did not know that this woman was a bawd who collected innocent girls to first offer them friendship and respectable work, but would later tell them that they owed sums of money that they could pay only by becoming prostitutes.

Lizzie was older than many of the girls that Gertie collected. She was smart enough to ask the innkeeper how much she would have to pay to stay and to eat. She had enough money for the first day only and paid in advance. While she was eating, a man sitting at the table next to her, offered her money to lay with her. The sum that he offered would pay for her to stay and eat several more days without being in debt to anyone. In Essex she had already lost her ‘flower’. She thought that one night with this man wasn’t too bad to fund her for a few days until she could find other work. After she finished eating, she took the man to her room, collected money from him then let him have his way.

Gertie was angry that Lizzie had established herself already at the inn as a prostitute and didn’t need Gertie to pimp for her. But, Gertie knew that Lizzie was pretty and would attract many men. She offered, for a fee, to teach her ‘the trade’ and protect her from customers who might try to hurt her. Since then, Lizzie had earned her way by selling herself to customers who came to the inns and taverns in the Cat Lane area in the west end of London.

Had she known how to read, she may have found her name in Harris’ List of Covent Garden Ladies as a Streetwalker or Harlot. She would have been offended to be included in the Streetwalker category as those ‘Ladies’ offered themselves at the lowest prices. Often they would do ‘it’ for a pint of wine and a shilling. She never charged less than five shillings. But, she had to admit that she would be included as a Covent Garden ‘Nun’, as she did sell herself to make money.

Four years after coming to London, she is still an attractive woman. When she started, many men and women told her how pretty she was with her milky white, wrinkle-free skin. She has not been ravaged by syphilis like many other prostitutes. She has watched those who were unlucky to catch the disease suffer with ulcers to their faces. Over time, they go blind and insane, and finally die in excruciating pain. No she has been lucky. But, working nights, sleeping too little during the day, and drinking too much gin, her skin is wrinkled and colored so that she looks older than her age. She is happy that powders and rouge are available to use on her face to hide the wrinkles and make her eyes more spectacular.

Today she is dressed in a new dress that she rented from Gertie. The dress is a thigh-length, short beige cotton gown with front-wrapping, trimmed black along the bodice and sleeves. She had bought a silk pink ribbon to tie at the middle of the bodice to draw attention to her bosom. The gown is over her petticoats. She chose these clothes to attract a better quality of man than she would on the streets that she normally worked. Also, the cotton is cooler. It is summer. London is hot and steamy. She can’t be all wet with sweat.

Gertie greets Lizzie. “That dress looks very fine on ya, Lizzie. The ribbon will surely catch the men’s eyes.”

“Thank you Gertie. Ya told me it would help the men to see me.”

“Richard stay here with Gertie.”

“Mr. Drake will get ‘is supper. I don’ think I will be home until very late.”

Lizzie hugs him before she turns to go to Howick Place.

“Bye ma.” Richard watches her go, then joins the other children.



After leaving Richard with Gertie, Lizzie strolled to Howick Place. There she met her new friend Becky. Lizzie met Becky the first day that Lizzie had ventured out of Cat Lane to find supporters of Gordon. Both had come from other neighborhoods. But, they heard from other prostitutes how many men were there and that the men were eager for the services of local women.

They had come to Howick Place for three days now. They were enjoying the bounty of all these new customers. After hugging to greet each other, they started to look for business. Lizzie had her eye on one of the gentlemen in the crowd.

“I need to make enough for Richard and me to eat today. Today, he showed me coins he found on the floor of the inn. He has nearly as much money as I. If’n I don’t make more, we can’t pay to keep our room. And, he will be four in two weeks, but he’s so big and eats all the time. ‘e ‘elps to feed ‘isself by cleanin’ for the owner of the inn. Thank God ‘e does.”

“Feeding him barely leaves me money to buy anything to drink. Today, he found two coins. I couldn’ tell ‘im that made ‘im almost as rich as me.” she laughs to Becky.

She watched one group of men. By the style of their clothes she thought that they came from outside of London. Perhaps, she thought, they came from Essex, as she had. Could one of them be her father? “Funny, until today, I hadn’t thought of Essex for a while.”

Becky has been busy scanning the crowd for her next man. She had made eye contact with one who seemed promising. Rather than talk with Lizzie, she continues to bob and weave her head suggestively towards the man. She is five years younger than Lizzie. She wears makeup only on her eyes and her bosom to attract the men. She still has the blossom of youth. She appears to be even younger than she is, which helps attract many of the older men.

Next to her, Lizzie continues to talk about her son.

“I named him Richard because I liked the name after at Christmastime in Covent Gardens I saw a puppet play about Richard, ‘Dick’, Whittington.”

“Who is Dick Whittington?”

“The play said he was a poor boy in London who made a lot of money by using his cat to catch rats. He made so much money, he became rich and was mayor of London. The name Richard may be lucky for my boy to do better than I have.”

“Rich from rats! There are a lot of them here. Now, y’ just need to teach ‘im how to catch ‘em and change them to money. Your Richard could be rich.” She laughs at her joke and to attract the man. Becky’s flirtations with the man have had no success. After several suggestive looks and invitations with her hand, the man turned away to ignore her.

Lizzie changes the subject from her boy

“I heard that last night Landford’s distillery was attacked and burned. All that gin fed the fire. Tis a shame if someone didn’t get to drink some before it was ruined.”

Becky giggles, “yes Lizzie and you do thirst a lot. Maybe today you’ll have enough for Richard, you and something left for another day. Richard won’t be able to turn rats into money for you for a long time yet.”

Lizzie said to Becky “That one looks like he will do for a quick one”

Becky looks to where Lizzie is staring. She sees a man alone at the edge of the crowd.

“Aye Lizzie. Go fer ‘im.”

Lizzie slowly walks toward the man with hopes that he will be her newest customer. She selected him because he does not appear to be with any others. By the look of the clothes this one was wearing he could easily afford her. But was he interested? It was time that she tried him.

“G’day good sir. How be ye this fine day?”

The man looks at her. Lizzie is happy that he does not brush her away.

Neither Lizzie nor her intended ‘customer’ notice that the crowd starts to shift. Those further up the street move in response to seeing a section of soldiers enter that end of the street. Before either can say another word, they turn towards the approaching soldiers.



The soldiers of the Queen’s Royal Regiment of Foot along with members of two Guards battalions had been called to deal with the rioting mob. London has no standing police force. When time require force to secure the peace, the army is called. It is rare, but this week, the army was called to the streets. With orders to shoot at groups of four or more that refuse to disperse, the army seeks to restore order. As their officers deployed them into independent company-size detachments to manage each of the streets, the soldiers are attacked with stones by some of the rioters. These soldiers have been trained to stand firm in the face of enemy attacking them. All of the instincts and emotions they developed prepare them for what will come next.

Their officers and sergeants have been calling out to the crowd to disperse. Very few follow the instructions. Many call back in opposition to the soldiers. The officers address the crowd one last time, but with no different result. Their commander decides that it is time to follow his instructions of when to shoot. He turns to his sergeants and issues the order to shoot. By sections, the soldiers prepare to fire. Their sergeants call out instructions to load and then prepare to fire. They fire two volleys before they are instructed to fix bayonets.

Those gathered in Howick Place are unaware that they are in danger as the soldiers marched forward. The crowds stand and watch until the first shots are fired. In shock, those not shot at, watch as the soldiers turn on them. In other streets, the same scene is playing out. When it is finished, throughout London, some 285 people are killed and another 200 wounded.

As the smoke clears, wounded and dead litter the street at Howick Place. With weapons at ‘charge bayonets’, the soldiers step off to disperse the crowd that remains.



Becky is among the wounded. When she was struck in the arm, she was spun around and then fell to the ground. She remained lying until the shooting stopped and the soldiers had passed by her. Around her she hears sobbing and groans. She realizes that she is sobbing softly too.

Cautiously she stands. She holds her arm as she looks for Lizzie. Some of the soldiers are coming back towards her to clear the street of those, like Becky who have risen after they had first passed by. Two of the soldiers armed with firearms with bayonets on the end, approach her. Neither says a word, but gestures for her to move.

When Becky fails to move, one of the soldiers says. “Tom, she is a pretty one. We should take her with us.”

Before the other man can reply,

“You, men!”

Both stop. “Yes, sergeant!”

“Leave that woman alone. Can’t you see she is hurt. She can not harm anyone. Drive those riotous men over there from these streets.” He points to where he wants them to go.

“Yes, sergeant Varden.”

The officer tips his hat to her, then goes with the soldiers.

The soldiers go towards where there officer pointed them. She watches them go, then scans for a way for her to escape the street full of dead and dying. She makes her way to the side of the street to stand alone against a wall. After the soldiers pass from her view, she looks again to where she last saw Lizzie. At that spot she sees several forms lying on the ground. Cautious that the soldiers will not return, she makes her way to the bodies.

Becky finds Lizzie by the pink ribbon that she was wearing. Lizzie is lying face down next to the man with whom she was talking when the soldiers fired. Becky drops to the ground to check Lizzie. When she turns Lizzie over, she sees that her eyes are lifeless. The dress she had taken such time to prepare for this week was soaked with Lizzie’s blood. There is a hole in the middle of her chest. Becky holds Lizzie’s head to her and cries.



After a time, the pain in her arm draws her attention away from Lizzie. Becky gently lays Lizzie back to the ground. She removes coins from Lizzie and the dead man next to her. When she is satisfied there is nothing else of value here, she unties Lizzie’s pink ribbon. Becky makes her way to her room to clean the wound. After, she wraps the wound with the ribbon.

“What should I do now about Lizzie? She recalls that Lizzie lived in Cat Lane with her son.

“I have Lizzie’s money. Should at least let her boy know that his ma is dead.” Although she owes nothing to Lizzie and is weary from being shot, she leaves the square to go to Cat Lane.

It is not far by a direct route, but goes by a way to avoid any more crowds and soldiers. When she arrives at Cat Lane, she sees a group of boys playing.

“Is one of you Richard Sharpe?:

A black-haired boy about three and a half feet tall answers.

“Why are you looking for him?”

“I need to talk to him about his ma.”

The boy points. “That’s Dickie Sharpe over there.”

Becky looks to where the boy directed her. “Oh my, he is big for only four years. I know Lizzie would like one of us here to look out for him. But, he will take a lot of money to feed and clothe. Poor boy will have to make it on his own or earn his keep at a workhouse.”

Becky sees an older woman sitting on a bench nearby. The woman appears to be watching the children. She wonders if this is someone who can help. When she appears in front of the woman, the woman looks up.

“Aren’t you a pretty young thing? Who do you work for?”

“I work on my own. I just came from Howick Place.”

The woman notices the pink ribbon bandage on Becky’s arm. “How’d ya hurt ya arm?”

“I was shot. So was Lizzie Sharpe.”

“Lizzie Sharpe? Shot? Where is she?”

“Dead.”

“Dead? Oh my!” The woman pauses, then looks towards the boy Richard.

“My name’s Gertie. Know’d Lizzie for long time. Watch her boy when she works.”

Becky looks towards Richard. “What will become of ‘er boy?”

Gertie looks at Richard playing with the others. He is younger than most, but is the same size. What she has seen of him, he is healthy and quick to learn. He doesn’t talk much.

“Jem Hocking is always looking for new children to work for ‘im. Maybe Jem can use ‘im in his orphanage.”

“I don’t know Jem Hocking. Do you?”

“I do. I kin take th’ boy to Jem. ‘afore I do, ya needs ta tell th’ boy what ‘appened to ‘is ma.”

Gertie calls out. “Dickie! Dickie Sharpe! Come ‘ere lad.”



Richard’s ma left after they ate lunch. Since then he has been playing in the street with the other boys. The stick, they call it a bat, is too big for some of the children. Some of the bigger boys can swing and hit. He can swing it, but not fast enough to hit the ball that one of the others throws. But, he likes the game. They have been playing for a long time without tiring of the game. Richard hears his name being called. He turns towards the sound. Gertie is standing with another woman. Gertie signals him to come to her. When in front of Gertie, he looks to the other woman.

“Yes? Who are you?” He notices the blood on Becky’s dress. “Is that blood?”

“I’m Becky. I know your mother. Sit down boy.”

“What happened to my arm is that your mother and I were out in the crowd today. The army came in to make the crowd go away. “

Richard listens more to her.

“Before we knew what they were about, they fired at us. Your mother and I were both hit, but your mother was killed.”

“Killed?”

Gertie says, “Your ma is dead, boy.”

Richard jumps up. “Ma, dead? No. No, not dead.” Tears came to his eyes as he walked around trying to understand what he just heard.

“Ma, Not dead. Ma will come home soon.”

“Richard, your mama is dead. I saw her.”

The tears started to roll steadily down Richard’s cheeks. “Ma’s dead? “ He repeats. Then he looks around at Gertie, then inn and the new woman. “What do I do?”

Gertie says to him. “Stay in your room tonight. I’ll ask Drake how long ya ma paid for ‘er room. Tomorrow I kin talk ta some people ta see where ya may go. Somebody ‘ere maybe can use ya.”

“Use me?”

“Yes, Do ya know other family ta take ya?”

“No. Ma, Mr. Drake and you are my family.”

“Did na think ya ‘ad anyone else. Ya’ll ‘ave to go to someone that ya can work fur ta feed and keep ya.”

“Work? I work for Mr. Drake. Can I stay with him?”

“I don’ know. Ya are bigger than most boys. Someone can find something fer ya”

Becky listens, but decides to interrupt. “I need to go now.”

Richard is stunned by all that has happened. But, before Becky can leave, he asks.

“Where’s my Ma now? Can I see ‘er?”

“I don’t know. The soldiers chased us away. The bodies may still be there.”

“I want to see ‘er.”

Becky sternly replies. “Stay away from Howick Place. Nothing good can come from going to see ‘er. If ya could even find ‘er.”

With his eyes wet with tears, he looks at Becky. With the determination of his four years, he says, “I will go see ‘er.”

Becky is sad for Richard, but she had met Lizzie only a few days ago. She has already done more than she needed to do. “Do what you want I can na take ya. I need to go. Me arm ‘urts. I need to take care ‘o it b’fore I work.” Becky turns and quickly goes so she can avoid giving the boy the idea that she will help.

Richard watches her go. He wants to see his mother, but doesn’t know where to start. Before he could run to follow Becky, Gertie grabs him by his shirt.

“Dickie, my boy. Stay ‘ere. Ya don’ know your way to ‘owick Place n back. It is no good for a small lad like ya. As tha’ lady tol ya, yer ma may na even be there.”

Richard looked to Gertie, then in the direction that Becky had gone. He knew that he had to find his ma. But, now, he couldn’t even follow Becky. He was also afraid to go. Gertie was right. He had never been further than Cat Lane before. Where is Howick Place? How can you go there? What if he went and could not come back? What would he do?

His ma is the only family he ever knew. She told him she never rightly knew who his pa is. She named him after a long-time ago mayor of London. For several months now, he felt the need to have a pa and a ma. Some days, he spent time with Mr. Drake because he was nice to him and taught him things. Ma is gone. Gertie says she will look for a place for him. If it is not here, then he will lose Gertie and Mr. Drake.

Gertie watches him stand in front of her. “Poor lad. Another orphan in London. City already ‘as too many.”

“Dickie. Go get ya supper. I’ll talk wi’ Drake ta see if he can use ya.”

Richard went slowly into the Candlestick. He stopped to get a plate with some bread and butter. The climb up the stairs to the room that his mother and he called home was difficult. He found some water mixed with wine to drink, ate a few bites of the bread, then placed his head in his arms and cried. He sobbed until he fell asleep.



The next morning, Richard woke to the sounds of the new day outside. As he became awake, he realized that he was alone. He looked for his mother, but didn’t see her, or her usual tankard of gin with water that she kept next to her bed.

“Where’s ma? Did I dream yesterday? Some woman told me ma is dead. No. She can’t be. Maybe she worked late. Sometimes she sleeps downstairs. Yes, she will be downstairs.”

He looked around the room to see what he could eat and drink. The unfinished bread and wine were still on his ma’s chair. He was too young to understand what was happening to him. He had never known anyone to die. All he knew was the life with his mother. By this time of morning, she would be wakening from the drink the night before. If she hadn’t paid Mr. Drake before, she would give him some coins to go buy gruel and of course wine or ale.

He finished the bread and water with wine, but was still hungry. He looked for coins in his mother’s clothing. After a few garments, he found two pence. Downstairs, Mr. Drake was cleaning the inn after another raucous night.

“Richard, my boy. I was looking for ye. I can offer ye gruel with cod again to ‘elp me.”

“I will Mr. Drake. have you seen ma, today?”

“Yer ma? No. Gertie says she did na come back yest’day.” Drake didn’t want to upset the boy.

“Gertie says my ma is dead. Is she?”

“I don’ know, lad. ‘ere, let’s clean the place. Ye can eat. After, we’ll find Gertie ta know th’ story of yer ma.”

Richard wanted answers now. But, he was hungry. He had coins, but Mr. Drake was offering him work. He didn’t know why, but thought it would be good to save the coins for another time. With less eagerness than yesterday, he set about finding scattered items in the room to take to the cleaning tub. Today’s treasures were few. He found only a penny, some chicken bones. When he finished, Richard took his bowl of gruel with cod to his room. Mr. Drake gave him a small cup of ale to wash it down.

At noon, Gertie returned.

“Hi Richard. How are you today. Did you eat?”

“Yes, Gertie. I ate. Where is Ma?”

“I don’t know. I asked a friend to go to ‘owick Place. Me friend tol’ me that they took the dead away. Don’t none know where they took ‘em.”

Richard looked at her for a long time. He started to tremble with emotion, but did not cry. “Who will take care of me?”

“I talked with Jem ‘ocking? We are going to see him now.”

“Who is Jem ‘ocking? Why can’t I stay ‘ere?”

“Drake likes ya enuff. I like ya too. But we can’t keep ya.”

Richard isn’t sure why they can’t keep him. “Why?”

“We ain’t yer kin. We ain’t got money ta raise ya, either.”

“Jem ‘ocking has lots o’ money. One o’ ‘is jobs is to raise orphans.”

“What’s an orphan?”

“A orphan is a child ‘oo ‘as no ma or pa.”

“Is that what I am, now? An orphan.”

“yes, Dickie, ya is an orphan.”

“Go ta yer room. Get anything that is yers that ya want ta keep and that ya kin carry. Come back down ‘ere quick. I’ll take ya to Jem ‘ocking.”

Richard went to his room. His treasure chest was all that was his. He grabbed what few clothes he had that he wasn’t wearing. He looked at his mother’s things. None of her things meant anything to him, except a red scarf that she had liked to wear. He took the coins from his treasure chest, then wrapped them in the scarf. He twisted the scarf as he had seen others do, to make a ‘purse’ to hold the coins. He stuffed the scarf in one pocket of his breeches. He didn’t know why, but he wanted to keep the knife near him. From the blanket they used on cold nights, he cut a small square to disguise the knife’s bulk. After he wrapped the knife, he put it in his other pocket.

This is my home. Will I see it again? Ma is my only family. Mr. Drake and Gertie treat me like family. But they won’t keep me. Who will be my family? Where will be home? These questions almost overcome Richard. Before he bursts into tears, he walks to the door. Without looking back he leaves.

Downstairs, Richard plods to the door. Drake watches him go. He would like to offer to keep the boy, but doesn’t want to be a parent. In a voice that Richard can’t hear, Drake says. “Good luck, lad. Ye deserve better n this.”

Outside Gertie waits for Richard. “Is that all ya ‘ave?”

“Yes.”

“Well, let’s be off. It is a long walk.” Richard looks at her, then follows her. As the crowd of people grows, Gertie offers a hand for Richard to hold. They walk east along the Thames into the morning light. Richard had never seen so many people. He struggles to keep up with Gertie while he looks at the buildings, people and animals. As they made their way, sometimes a street would have only a few people. Then they would enter a new street and he had to hold Gertie’s hand tightly to stay with her.

Gertie walks steadily on. She doesn’t say anything to him or anyone. Some women call out to her as they pass near to Covent Gardens. They work for Gertie or know her and are surprised to see her there. She ignores them as she walks. She has no time to talk today. Jem Hocking’s orphanage will take them nearly two hours to reach from when they started.

After Covent Gardens, she led Richard onto the Strand. She has not come that way often, but knows that it is a straight route to Brewhouse Lane. They make their way to Temple Bar. On the other side, the street is known as Fleet Street and the buildings change. Richard wants to ask so many questions but is attracted to a new interest before he asks. The street near Temple Church is full of people, especially in front of a small shop that sells tea. Many people go in and out of the narrow doorway. Richard is curious. “What is that?”

“Sells tea.”

“Tea?”

“Yes, tea. Ye drink it. Very expensive. Comes from H’India.”

“H’India?”

“Yes, boy. H’India. Far away to the East. Not likely, a place ye will ever see.”

Richard frowns. As they walk on, he thinks about tea, H’India and a place called the East. What can they be?

Before he can begin to imagine more, a large stone building appeared on their right. He would like to have Gertie walk closer to it, but there is water that is more mud than water that separates them from the building. Behind the walls, he sees four white towers.



“What’s that?”

“The Tower?”

“Tower of London. ‘Tis a castle. Kings one time lived there.”

“The king? Lives there?”

“No. King doesn’t live there no more.”

Gertie expects she will have to explain more “One time, King lived there. Now it is a zoo.” Gertie realizes she made a mistake.

“Zoo?”

“Place they keep wild animals to see.”

“Wild animals? Cats? Rats? Dogs?”

“No, Tigers. Lions. H’elephants. They come from H’India too.”

Richard doesn’t know what they are. But, this H’India sounds very exciting. “Can we see?”

“Anyone can, if ye have three half-pence, a cat or a dog.”

“Pay with cats? Dogs?” Gertie tires of Richard’s questions.

“Yes, feeds ‘em to the lions and tigers. Sometimes they feed little boys who talk too much.”

Richard wants to ask her if they can go see the animals, but worries that what Gertie told him about feeding boys to the lions is true. Although he doesn’t know what a lion or a tiger is. He is afraid to ask. As he walks he looks to his right at the Tower. He slows his pace as he wonders about lions, tigers, h’elephants and H’India.

“Keep up.” Gertie barks at him.

Richard frowns, as he stretches his stride to keep pace with Gertie

Almost two hours after they left, Richard is very tired and very hungry. He wants to ask Gertie if they can eat. He is about to ask her, when Gertie turns into a smaller street to the right of the street that they have been following.

“Welcome to Wapping, Richard.” In front of a large brick building Gertie knocked on the door. A thin, shabbily dressed man opens the door. He looked at Gertie and Richard. “I knows ye. Come for some girls?”

“Not today. Giving ye a boy.”

“Givin’” He guffaws. “Not likely. The Master is home. I’ll take ye.” They enter the courtyard of the building. Inside a well-kept house stands separately from another large building. The man leads them to the house. At its door, he knocks. A large man opens the door and listens to the thin man. The larger man looks at Gertie and Richard then walks out to them.

“Hello Gertie. Is this the boy?”

“Yes.”

“How old is he?”

“I don’t know “

“Boy, how old are you?”

“I am four. Ma told me.”

“You are big for four. You look five or six. Let me see your arms.”

He grabs each by the wrists and feels to the shoulder.

“You’ll do.”

Gertie says to him. “What about my money?“

“Here.” He gives her three shillings.

“Now go. I’ll take care of the boy.”

Gertie looks at Richard. Pats him on the head, then goes.

Richard watches Gertie. He wants to cry. Gertie was the last person from the world that he knew. This is a new world. He looks at the big man, who points him where to go. Richard Sharpe has come to Brewhouse Lane.

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Fiction Index | Sharpe Tales Home | Sharpe's Family Index | Chapter 1

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