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: General Audience

The Sharpe Fan Fictions of Paul K.

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Bernard Cornwell’s

SHARPE’S Justice

Richard Sharpe and the
Peace of the Congress of Vienna

Screenplay Written by Patrick Harbinson and Bernard Cornwell.
Novel Adapted by Paul Kaster

Chapter 3
OCTOBER, 1814
LONDON, ENGLAND – SOUTHWARK

Former Sergeant Major Patrick Harper waits outside The Dublin Arms public house even though the weather is cold. It has been a grey day, but he could not wait to leave his wife and the warmth of his cousin’s home

With the war over and a discharge signed by Wellington personally, Patrick, now a civilian, first went to Spain to retrieve his wife and son From there, he stopped in London to arrange to transfer the money from his share of the jewels so he could return to Ireland to buy and operate a pub in his hometown.

Harper and Sharpe had been at Southwark before when they had returned to find the missing 2nd battalion of the South Essex. Before Harper finished his affairs in London, Sharpe was able to get word to him that he was coming to London. “Pat, it is good to see you again.” Richard said as they embraced.

Harper holds Sharpe’s elbow as he guides him to the tavern’s door.

“We will find a good drink and a meal inside here. It tis more fit inside to talk than here.”

Harper leads Sharpe through the door. The room is full of people but Harper spies a table near the wall that is empty. Dodging several people he grabs a chair while signaling a barmaid to come to them.

“Richard, I recommend the rabbit pie…….”

“Wash it down with ale or have you taste for French drinks only now?” He asks politely, but with a mischievous grin.

“Ale will do.”

“How are Isabella and Richard?”

“She is busy with young Richard. He’s not yet one yet. Still depends on his ma for everything.”

“She gets lots of help from my cousin’s wife.“

“It was good to get your message.”

“I know that you can’t get along without me.”

“After all, I kept you safe for five years.” Smiles again.

“What brings you to London so soon?”

“Horse Guards.”

“Horse Guards?”

“Yes, Horse Guards! I need money. I received orders to report here or go on half pay.”

“So here I am.”

“And, Jane is here. She has what’s left of my money.”

“While I find out what Horse Guards wants me to do, I can find her to get my money.”

“Besides, you can help keep me to stay out of too much trouble again while I get my money back from Jane and wait out Horse Guards.” Now it was Sharpe’s turn to smile mischievously.

“Aye, you do have a way of drawing the worst people to you. That Lord Fenwick, there. He was not happy with the way you made him look at the Prince of Wale’s dinner. He was very unhappy w’ ya. He sent those two fellas to kill ya before you could cause trouble for trouble for him.” Harper recalls that last year, they killed two soldiers of the South Essex’s 2nd battalion who had been hired as assassins by Lord Fenner.

“Now where is that pie and ale?”

While he rode to London, Sharpe had thought about his options when he arrived in the city. He had mused, “I could go straight to Jane’s house. Demand my money from Rossendale and Jane. If they don’t pay, I can turf them out to the street. Then while I live in her apartment, I can sell all that is there and lease the place for the remainder of the time to get what money is left.”

“But, as Jane lives there and Rossendale has many friends here, it is likely, that they would call the police on me which Horse Guards would find distasteful.”

“Or, if they don’t pay, I can wait until I can meet Rossendale alone, demand my money or kill him. I would still have to deal with Jane and have no money.”

“I could go to Horse Guards first. Then, if I don’t like the assignment, go to Jane and maybe kill Rossendale before I return to France.”

“But, if Horse Guards has something attractive, I can try that first, then deal with Jane and Rossendale.”

He had had many hours in the saddle to contemplate which he would choose.

The next day, Harper and Sharpe would go to Horse Guards.

For now, it was good to see Pat again and to share a meal. Harper had been eating while Sharpe was thinking.

“How’s the pie?”

“Good Pat, good.”

“What have you been doing with this horse trading business, you talk about? Will you buy the horses, or steal them?”

Harper grins. “Maybe both.”

When they finished talking and eating, Sharpe arranged to meet Harper at Horse Guards.

LONDON, ENGLAND - HORSE GUARDS

The waiting room to the offices of the politicians who run the army is filled with officers of many ranks and wearing the uniforms of most of the regiments of the British Army. It is a large room. The fireplace holds a small fire. Many come daily hoping to hear their name called. Others, with less hope, use the room as a refuge from the cold and a place to talk with others. Sometimes, a chat will lead to the offer of a small meal paid by another. They gather in this waiting room hoping to have the letters that they or well-connected friends or family have sent to the Duke of York or a connected politician to assign them to an active duty station.

Outside, he leaves Harper.

“Pat, this could take a while.”

“I will wait here.”

“Some of these fine gentlemen passing here may know horses.”

“I may be able to interest them in some fine horses I can get them from Ireland.”

Inside, Sharpe reports in to the clerk that assigns people.

After, he goes to the office where they pay. With the clerk there, he presents himself to collect the pay he is due.

Sharpe asks, “Who do I have to see to discuss the pay I will receive when I retire?”

“Sir, you are permanently listed as a 1st Lieutenant with the 2/95 Rifles.”

“For six years I have served with the South Essex, now the Prince of Wales Own, as a Captain and now a Major. You paid me as these.”

“Sir, I regret that at no time have you been put on the permanent rolls of the South Essex. That regiment has all their captains and majors filled by those that have PAID for their commissions.”

Sharpe looks at the clerk. Angrily he says, “So their money means more than my blood?”

Sharpe recalls a comment his friend and former battalion commander Lt. Colonel Leroy would say. Leroy had been raised in the American colonies. When the colonies rebelled, his family and he escaped with all the wealth they could take. He had used that money to buy a captaincy in the South Essex. When Sharpe would complain about not being confirmed captain by Horse Guards, he would tell Sharpe, “Money talks. Merit walks.”

Leroy was a competent officer. He too was promoted because he performed. He rose to command the battalion, but not confirmed as permanent either.

His reward was to be killed at Ciudad Rodrigo.

Sharpe asks the clerk, “Sir, are there no regiments that need a Major?”

“Yes, sir. There are several regiments that are now in or will go to the West Indies. But, you would need to have a permanent place in a regiment to trade with them.”

“What of my appointment to major by the Prince of Wales? Does that count for nothing?”

“Sir, I am sorry to say that the Prince of Wales grants many favors. But, here, we are required to follow the rules set for us. We may recognize the rank a person has WHEN SERVING. When they retire, we are guided to recognize them by their last permanent rank.”

Sharpe tries one more try. “I have served in the 33rd, the 74th and the 95th. Are there NO openings in any of those regiments?”

The clerk sympathizes with Sharpe. He has seen other officers in this same situation. And, he knows of Sharpe’s reputation as he is often talked about by those in power at Horse Guards.

“Sadly, sir. No. With regiments being disbanded, officers that have purchased their rank have claimed them all.”

Sharpe hears the clerk. What can he do that could make his rank permanent? For now, it seems that he must continue to find active duty, even if his rank is temporary in order to keep his pay.

“Thank you, sir, for your help.”

Sharpe takes his pay voucher, picks up his hat and leaves.

The clerk watches him go. He wishes he could have done more. Now, to the next person in line.


Sharpe returns to the waiting room. Today, as with many days so far, the room is filled with many red-coated uniforms from ensign to colonel. He is the only one who wears the green of the Rifles.

As he enters the room and passes by many to find a space to stand, others notice him, but none greet him. He is different in that he wears green and his uniform is so shabby compared to the fine cut of the uniforms of most there.

Sharpe finds a space at the edge of the room. He expects to have to wait a long time and possibly for many days.

Each time the clerk emerges from the room that those that choose who will be assigned, all waiting in the room stop talking and turn towards the door. The clerk calls out a name and rank to give the person called either good or bad news.

Within the hour the clerk has called out the names of two others. One is pleased. The other is not.

Now, the clerk emerges again. Surprisingly he calls out.

“Sharpe. “

“Major.”

“Richard.”.

“Prince of Wales Own.”

“Your orders.”

The officers waiting in the background grumble that Sharpe has been called instead of them.

Richard Sharpe unfurls the orders. He reads them very quickly. Before the clerk can leave the room, Sharpe walks to him. He grabs the clerks arm to question.

“What do you mean Yorkshire?”

The clerk, annoyed. This man has just been given an assignment, and on only the first day he has reported.

“Yorkshire. Yorkshire. Yorkshire.”

The clerk guides him to a space that he can talk with Sharpe without others in the room hearing them.

“Where you are to go to command the Scarsdale Yeomanry.”

Sharpe grabs the clerk’s lapel. Some of the others in the room turn to watch them. No one would presume to act as Sharpe is. Sharpe stares at the clerk, he angrily responds

“I don’t want to go to Yorkshire. I have business here.”

The clerk, now agitated and knowing the authority of his office spits back “Well then, your business must wait. “

Sharpe barks, “It can’t wait.”

The clerk tries to get away from Sharpe. Sharpe retains his firm grip on the clerk’s arm. The clerk knows he has power. She faces up to Sharpe, “You go to Yorkshire. or you go to Tasmania in command of a convict ship. Which is where you would have gone if your friends had not put a word in for you.”

Sharpe, releases him. He is confused by this response. Since the time he became an officer, he has had little or no support. He watches the clerk go and asks to himself, “Friends, what friends?”

With his orders in hand he walks out of the room. In the hallway he stops. What had he just heard? In order to keep his rank and pay, he was going to be assigned to go to Tasmania with criminals? With his experience why would he be assigned there?

Yet, the clerk said his friends had changed the orders to send him to Yorkshire to command yeomanry.

Alone in the hallway, Sharpe mumbled, “Friends? In Horse Guards?”

If anything his experience with Horse Guards was that he had no friends here. In Portugal, he was promoted to Captain, but not confirmed by Horse Guards. He had to revert to a lieutenant until he was able to be promoted again after storming the breach at Badajoz.

He was promoted to major, but only because the Prince of Wales had intervened. But even then, he could not be posted to a battalion. He was added to Wellington’s staff and served in many ways as his mentor/friend Major Hogan had.

Last year Harper and Sharpe had returned to England to collect replacements from the second battalion. Horse Guards told them that there were no recruits available and that the regiment would be broken up. Sharpe learned that several connected to Horse Guards were corruptly selling the South Essex’s replacements to other regiments. When Sharpe exposed them, Horse Guards threatened to send him off to the Americas.

Because during the battle at Talavera, Harper and Sharpe captured a French eagle Sharpe was able to meet the Prince of Wales. Without the Prince’s support, he would not have secured the replacements and saved the regiment. But, but doing so, Horse Guards was even more upset with Sharpe.

The one exception was his friend from India and former a former commander of the South Essex. Could it have been Lawford who had saved him from Tasmania?

“Why would he pick Yorkshire?”

“We have history there with the 33rd. Why not send me back to that regiment?

“Surely it can’t be General Baird?”

General David Baird first met Sharpe in India. Baird remembered Sharpe as an outsider, but who was very good at what he does. When the British attacked Copenhagen, he had given Sharpe a special mission. After which he intervened with Sharpe’s colonel when his commander learned that Sharpe had not remained in England, as he was supposed to. Again in 1809, he met General Baird in Spain during the disastrous Corunna campaign. Baird succeeded John Moore when Moore was killed. But in the battle, Baird was wounded, lost an arm. And, since he returned to England, he has been out of favour with Horse Guards.”

With these thoughts, he walked to the door to leave.
OUTSIDE HORSE GUARDS

Harper waits while officers arrive and depart.

Although a big man, as he is not wearing a uniform, no one gives him notice. And, none of them look like they would be interested in buying horses from him. So he waits. He has done this before with Sharpe and knows that it could take all day and even many days.

He has been waiting only a short while when he sees Sharpe exits the building.

“Bad news?

“I’m sent to bloody Yorkshire to command some bloody yeomanry.”

Harper “Yorkshire? That’d be nice. It’ll be kind of a homecoming for ya.”

“I’ve done without Yorkshire more than twenty years. And, I don’t want it now”

“And don’t think you are coming with me. You’re going home.”

"Maybe I should just see you settled first."

“I’m not getting settled. I’ll stay up there as long as I must. And I come back down here to find me money and me wife and the bastard that stole them. But you Pat, you’re going home.”

“Of course I am sure.

Who’s there to fight in Yorkshire?”

“Englishmen I suppose.”

“Not all bad news then.”

“Now, why, I wonder, would they give you a yeomanry regiment? You are an infantry officer? What do you know about cavalry?”

“I DON’T know cavalry. Just how to kill them.”

Harper looks at Sharpe’s trousers and boots. “That you do.”

“Maybe they want me to teach the cavalry how to be real soldiers.” Grins at Harper.

“Well, as you know nothin’ about cavalry and I started my army time in the Irish dragoons, I think I will join you to see how I can help.” He grins back.

“Or, as all you know is how to kill cavalry, maybe that is your mission, to kill ENGLISH cavalry. Now, that would be fun.”

“Pat. You’re not going.”

Pat ignores him.

“You know. I hear there are some fine horses available in Yorkshire that can be bought much cheaper than here in London. I wonder if I can get some of them now to start me business. After, I can provide horses from Ireland.”

“Pat. You’re not going.”

“Ah, and there ya go again thinkin’ I’m your sergeant who has to obey ya. Which I rarely did anyway.” He says proudly.

“Whether we go together or separate, I t’ink I will go to Yorkshire.”

Sharpe gives up.

All of this puzzles him. Why is he assigned to command a yeomanry? The yeomanry are volunteers that were raised by wealthy land owners to when England was threatened by invasion from Bonaparte’s French. The officers were almost always from the nobility or the gentry. None of the yeomanry were required to serve overseas. Most of the yeomanry were cavalry. When the threat of invasion was reduced, these units were used more as police.

Sharpe has never served with a cavalry regiment. While he has worked with units from cavalry regiments, for twenty years he has been an infantryman, first in the 33rd and 74th foot regiments, then with the elite 95th Rifles whose uniform he still wears, and then with the South Essex another foot regiment. In fact, although only a major, for the past year he has served as the commanding office of the regiment. Now he is to command cavalry.

Who commands now? As he is most likely wealthy and maybe a noble, how will he react to being commanded by Sharpe. Sharpe’s mother was a whore who died when Sharpe was only four years old. He was raised in an orphanage in London. He ran away when he was sold to a chimney sweep. Maggie Joyce took him in. With her friends, he learned how to pick locks, steal and fight to survive. When Maggie was attacked by on of her ‘Johns’, Sharpe killed the man to save her. Maggie told him to run from London to Yorkshire. Although he was in Yorkshire a short time, he killed again to save another friend. Again he ran. Before he left Yorkshire, he met a recruiting party of the 33rd. Got drunk with them and found he was now a solder.

While the regiment was in India, he saved Wellington’s life and was promoted from sergeant to lieutenant. He did not fit well with the other officers of the mess, so when given the change to volunteer with the newly forming 95th Rifles, he joined. During the Corunna campaign, Sharpe, Harper and a detachment of the 95th were separated from the rest of the regiment. When they rejoined the army, Wellington used their experience to support the newly arrived South Essex regiment who were ill-trained and poorly led. Sharpe took command during a key part of the battle when the colonel ran.

Now he was given a yeomanry command instead of a convict guard battalion. How did he deserve either? He wonders if maybe the convict battalion would be the better choice. At least Harper wouldn’t volunteer to go with him there!

“OK Pat, be ready at sunup tomorrow. We have two hundred miles to go. We have only about ten hours of daylight each day. I want to cover at least fifty miles each day.”

“What’s your hurry?”

“I want to see what mess I got myself into this time. It’s not too late to tell them to kiss my bum, then go back to France.” He grins. “Ah, sure and would you be doin’ THAT!”

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Fiction Index | Sharpe Tales Home | Sharpe's Justice Index | Chapter 4

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