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SHARPE’S MISSION
Richard Sharpe and the Battle of the Nive
Screenplay Written by Eoghan Harris and Bernard Cornwell.
Novel Adapted by Paul Kaster
PART TWO
1813 November
SAINT-PEE-SUR-NIVELLE
Chapter 12
Jane invited Shellington to dinner again. With Harris and Sally present, she is not worried that people will gossip.
Harris had prepared another delicious meal. Sally and he found enough at the market to add to the items left over from the other meals. With the cold winter weather, food does not spoil so quickly. As neither Jane nor Shellington eat a lot, Harris reduced the amount of each course that he prepares, but makes enough for Sally and him to enjoy the meal as well.
While they ate, Shellington discussed the sketches he made that day.
“Dear Lady, Wellington’s camp is so full of images to draw. I draw in black and white. As most of the men wear gray coats over their red uniforms, it matters not. But, I would like to sketch some that I may use water colours later to bring out the beautiful reds, blues, yellows and gold of the uniforms and trim.”
“Yes, yes. As this time of year, the landscape is colourless, the army is the lone source of colour for you. And, you sketch so precisely. Your work is so much better than my simple drawings.”
“My Lady, your works are quite good for someone who has been trained so little. I am I awe that you can capture the essence of images so well. Your hands must be guided by an invisible force connected to your hands.”
Jane blushes at Shellington’s compliment. They continue to trade talk of drawings and paintings until the meal is finished.
Sally clears the plates while Harris prepares glasses of port.
Shellington realizes that the evening is almost over. This may be his last dinner alone with Jane. When Harris and Sally have returned to the edges of the room, he offers,
“I dreamed of you last night. And, I wrote you this poem.” He picks up a paper rolled and tied with a red ribbon that he had placed on the table earlier.
“I trust you’ll not be offended.” He unrolls the sheet and begins to read.
Jane grows warm from Shellington’s words and the port. Talking with Shellington brings her joy. If only she could have such conversation with Richard. While she muses, Shellington begins to read.
“I dreamed of you.”
Shellington leans closer to Jane.
“How shall I say it?”
Jane’s breast rises and falls with emotion as Shellington draws closer.
“Undraped.”
Jane rolls her eyes in surprise. “Oh, Mr. Shellington. I don’t know if I dare, let you read it.”
But, with motion that is opposite to her words, Jane leans forward to urge him to continue.
“My love, in her attire, doth show her well.
It doth so well become her.
For every season, she has dressings fit.
For winter, spring and summer.”
Jane smiles and her eyes sparkle.
“No beauty she doth miss, when her, all her robes are on.”
Before Shellington can read another line, from behind them, Harris adds,
“But beauty self she is, when all her robes are gone.”
Shellington stops to turn towards Harris. He says nothing, but glares at Harris for interrupting.
Harris ignores Shellington. He steps forward to speak directly to Jane.
“A fine poem. First published as a poetic rhapsody in 1602.”
Jane looks aghast at Shellington and then to Harris.
“Originally attributed to ‘Anonymous’, of all people. But, personally, I think it was written by Francis Davison.”
Jane looks bitterly at Shellington. “Francis Davison? “Francis Davison?”!!”
Shellington gawps knowing that he has been caught using another’s works as his. He turns from Harris to Jane. “I’m so sorry. We poets share a common muse.” He places his hands on the table near Jane’s He leans towards her.
“Poetry is like an apple tree.”
Jane leans back in the chair. She wishes to be as farr away as possible from Shellington. She stares at him with a stern face.
Shellington does not realize that he is defeated. He tries one more time to win Jane. His voice drips of sweetness as he says. “And we poets, like birds of the air, alight and feed on it, where we may.”
Jane slaps his face vigorously. “You’ll not alight or feed here, you cad!” She turns away from him.
Shellington recoils with the slap. He slowly recovers and returns to face the table. Jane remains turned away from him to signal that she is done with him..
Harris smiles as all of this plays out. When Shellington remains seated to wait for Jane to soften, he steps behind Shellington to take his chair
Shellington still does not rise. So, Harris jostles the chair to indicate that it is time to go. Shellington remains seated ignoring Harris cue. He gasps when Harris grabs his collar to lift him from the chair.
Harris leads him to the door, grabs his cloak and hands it to him at the doorway. Sally picks up the paper with the poem. Shellington starts to turn, but Harris shoves him out of the door by his neck. He stumbles and nearly falls. Sally hands him the paper. Harris throws it at Shellington, then gently, closes the door.
Sally returns to cleaning up.
Harris cautiously approaches the table to retrieve the glasses. Jane looks at him. Her eyes are puffy as she tries to hold back the tears she wants to shed.
“Francis Davison, eh? Jane asks meekly.
“Wrote it on a candle flight, did he?”
Harris wets his fingers, then squeezes the wick of one of the candles. As he extinguishes the extra candles lighting the room, he continues,
“Light to the silly fly.
To the dear light I fly.”
Harris pauses at the last candle.
Of your disdainful eyes.
But, in a diverse wise,
she with the flame doth play
by night alone
And I both night and day.”
Jane sobs, “That’s me. A silly fly. Drawn to the candlelight.”
Harris lets her finish what she will say.
“I nearly got my wings burned, didn’t I, Harris?” She turns to him.
“I don’t think so maam. He’s not THAT hot.” He smiles.
Jane laughs, then sniffles. Harris offers a cloth to wipe her nose. Jane continues to sit.
Harris leaves her to her thoughts so that he may finish putting away the dinner dishes. As he approaches Sally to help her with the last items, she places a hand on his shoulder. They finish cleaning then leave Jane to her thoughts.
Hyughe had his battalion collect the wounded from the remains of Fort Rocha. The dead and dying have been laid in a clearing in the woods. Hyughe surveys the losses. Of the nearly six hundred men that he commanded when they started this mission, he has lost nearly one hundred fifty dead and wounded.
He looks at Cresson who has been standing at what remains of the fort’s gate.
“That man thought he had a fool-proof plan. Now, he is the fool. The British are not such fools. They easily defeated him and us. Who would be so foolish to give them access to the powder? How stupid?! And to so much powder?”
“Stupid.”
The British will be back. Even without the gunpowder, Rocha’s walls can be used to delay them. He walks from the dead bodies to talk with Cresson.
“Colonel. I plan to re-establish a garrison for the fort so that it may be part of the armed camps. We will need the rest of the day and much of tomorrow.”
Cresson looks at him. He has been looking at the wrecked fort. It is symbolic of his career. So much promise. To capture Nairn would have been a great success. Now, there is nothing but defeat.
“Very well. I will return to Anglet to report to General Calvet. Finish your work, then return to Anglet.”
He realizes that he received support that he did not merit.
“Thank you Major Hyughe.”
Cresson turns and goes to find his horse.
Colonel Cresson stands in front of Calvet. It was a short distance, but a long ride from Rocha to Anglet. When he returned to Calvet’s tent, he was not as shiny as when he first visited. His uniform is wrinkled from wearing it all night and dusty from the road. Calvet’s guards take the reins of his horse as he dismounts.
Before he walks to the tent, he dusts himself and attempts to straighten the wrinkles from his uniform. Calvet’s orderly greets him, steps into the tent to request Calvet’s time for the colonel.
“The General will see you.”
With as much courage as he can gather, Cresson steps into the tent, approaches Calvet and salutes.
Calvet remains sitting at his desk, as he had previously. He ignores Cresson while he reads what appears to be the copy of Cresson’s orders.
Sergeant Gaston places a basket of mushrooms on the table. Calvet takes one to eat and offers the basket to Cresson.
Cresson looks at the basket, then chooses one to eat too. He chews apprehensively as he is worried that it is poisoned. When he chews several times, he relaxes.
Calvet smiles at him. Cresson smiles back, but his smile turns into shock as Gaston shoots him in the back.
Cresson collapses to his knees. He looks over the edge of the table at Calvet who looks disdainfully at him.
Calvet takes the order sheet. “The Emperor’s orders…”
He places the sheet on Cresson’s dead face.
“You failed to carry them out.”
Calvet finishes his wine, then belches.
The following day dawns as another cold gray day. Since he is on house arrest, Harris has no regimental duties, other than to look after Mrs. Sharpe. First thing, he went to observe Shellington. From a distance, he watched until Shellington appeared.
Shellington called to the soldiers that Wellington had assigned to help him.
“Today, I will move my lodging. What is available near General Hill?”
Neither of the privates has any knowledge or authority to arrange billets. They look at each other. One offers.
“We do not know. Perhaps you should ask ‘eadquarters.”
Shellington guffaws. “I suppose. Pack my things. We will move when I return.”
Harris chuckles. Shellington is retreating. It will take a while for him to gain approval for new lodgings near General Hill. He will get some tea and breakfast, then return to make sure that Shellington goes.
Captain D’Alembord has the Prince of Wales Own headquarters tent nearby. Sharpe had been using Clayton to help with clerk duties. Clayton and Sally have a tent among the headquarters. With Clayton gone with Sharpe, Sally will make breakfast alone. He’s sure that she will not mind sharing as Harris sent much of the leftover food from the dinners with Sally.
As he approaches their tent, Sally greets him.
“Rifleman ‘arris. It is so good to see you.”
When he is closer, “Are you still celebrating your victory?”
“Victory?”
“Yes, you know what I mean.” She beams a large smile at him.
“You soundly beat that gentleman with his own words. Never saw a gentleman run with his tail between his legs like that one did.”
Harris chuckles. “Well, he made it easy. He quoted one of my favorite poems.”
“Such a lewd poem is one of your favorites? I am not surprised. Clayton says you always try to find books. And, the dirtier, the better.” She laughs heartily.
“The women in the camp know to keep their distance from the likes of you.” She says with no malice intended.
“But, we did not know that YOU are such a gentleman to defend women with the use of what you have learned.”
“Good for you, ‘arris.”
While they are talking, Major Hogan walks up to them.
“Good morning Sally.”
“Ah, Harris. And how are you this morning?”
“I am very well, thank you Major.”
“How is it being under arrest?”
“If all arrest sentences were like this, I would welcome being arrested. I have had a chance to read, eat and drink much more than when I am on duty.” Harris smiles a large grin.
“Well, then.” Hogan is wearing his long winter riding coat over his engineer’s uniform. He reaches into one of his coat pockets. From it he pulls a book.
“You should enjoy this then.”
Harris examines the book.
“Les Liaisons dangereuses by Pierre Choderlos de Laclos. Most certainly I will enjoy this. When shall I return it? “
“It is yours. I found it in a village when out on one of my ‘rides’. The owner won’t need it anymore.”
“Which is to say, sir, that it belonged to a French soldier, sir?”
“Did.”
“Is Mrs. Sharpe available?”
Sally replies. “I served her coffee ‘alf an hour ago.” She was presentable then.”
“Thank you. And good day to both of you.”
Harris watches Hogan go to Sharpe’s quarters.
Sally interrupts his thoughts.
“Another dirty book for you, ‘arris?”
Harris responds only with a wink.
Sally laughs heartily at Harris.
Hogan knocks on Jane’s door. “Mrs. Sharpe. It is Major Hogan. Do you have a moment, please?”
Jane cautiously opens the door.
“Major Hogan. So good to see you. Come in.”
“I am sorry to disturb you so early. Mrs. Clayton told me that you were awake and presentable.”
“It is no matter. May I offer you coffee? Some remains in the pot.”
“No, no. But, thank you.”
“To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”
“Ma’am, you have inquired before of Major Sharpe’s safety when he is gone. I have some news.”
“Oh my, is he hurt?”
“No, no dear lady. My sources observed the action at Rocha Fort. Richard and his men seized the fort easily. While they occupied the fort, they were assaulted by a battalion of French infantry. The French rarely are a match for Major Sharpe’s skills. Once again he defeated a force much larger than his, destroyed their powder magazine and is now on his way back to us.”
“Oh Major Hogan! You bring me such wonderful news. When may I see him again?”
After he silliness with Shellington, Jane wants to be at her best for when Richard returns.
“I expect him to return this evening or tomorrow. He will need to travel cautiously to avoid the French and to cross our picket lines safely.”
“May I ask that you send word to me when he is nigh so that I may welcome him as he returns to us.”
“I will take Harris to serve as messenger with me this evening. Can you spare him?”
“Sally, Mrs. Clayton, can prepare dinner this evening. I will dine simply today. I am not so hungry in anticipation of Richard returning safely.”
“Then, I will go. I wish you a good day, ma’am.”
“And a good day to you too, Major Hogan. Thank you again for this wonderful news.”
Hogan left Sharpe’s quarters to report to Wellington. It was another gray and misty day. Hogan mumbled about the poor weather they have had for nearly a month. If this continued, the army would likely have to wait until the Spring to attack again.
Wellington welcomed Hogan.
“Come in Hogan. What news do you have today?”
“My Lord, I am pleased to report that the noise we heard yesterday was Rocha Fort blowing up.”
“Very good. And Nairn?”
“I have no report yet, but my agents report that Major Sharpe’s force escaped the fort and are en route to us. From a distance they report that the force contains men that wear the red coats as well as some wearing green. They report also one that wears a blue coat. That could be Nairn.”
“And Brand?”
“Some, but very few, of Brand’s men returned to our lines already. They report that Colonel Brand and Captain Craig were under arrest by Major Sharpe.”
“Under arrest?”
“Yes, they tell us that Major Sharpe arrested Colonel Brand with the charges of murdering French soldiers and gypsies and collaborating with the French.”
“While the French attacked the fort, Colonel Brand was tried by Major Sharpe. General Nairn served as judge.”
Wellington pauses before asking.
“A trial? While they were besieged?”
“Yes. Sharpe addressed Brand’s men before the final French attack. He gave them the chance to fight the rearguard. Captain Craig was led them out, but has not been seen since. No one has seen Colonel Brand since he was arrested."
“Not seen?”
“No, my Lord.”
“Well, when Nairn and Sharpe return, we should look forward to hearing their very interesting report. Will we not?”
“Yes, very interesting.”
Shellington has tried. How could he know that that common soldier Harris knew poetry.
When his publisher asked to see him in London, he did not know that it would come to this.
When he was commissioned to make this trip, the publisher was with another man,
“Have as seat, Shellington. This is Sir Henry Simmerson.
Before he takes a seat, Shellington walks towards Simmerson. Simmerson waves a hand at him, then to the seat that was offered.
“Mr. Walter, I came to you because my niece ran away with a man to be married without my consent. While she is of age, she has disgraced my family. “
Simmerson omits to tell them how Sharpe discovered and ended Simmerson’s crimping operation.
“Shellington, I want you to find the man who took her and discredit him so that we may annul the marriage and return her to me.”
“How can I get her to return with me if she married this man?”
“My niece is young and naïve. She has not known the world. Her head is filled with ideas of romance and the arts. She swoons at the words of the poets she reads.”
Mr. Walter interrupts Simmerson.
“Mr. Shellington. You have somewhat of a reputation with the ladies, eh?”
“Sir?”
“It is said that you attract more than a fair share of the young women with your looks, and your words. Is it not so?”
Shellington thinks on this, then modestly replies. “I have attracted more than one or two young women to me, yes.”
Simmerson barks at him. “Enough humility, young man. Either you have it in you to seduce my niece away from her husband, or you don’t.”
“Sir Henry, I can.” As he says this he realizes he needs to know who her husband is.
“Who married your niece?”
“Major Richard Sharpe.”
“Sharpe? The Sharpe who met with the Prince.”
“Yes. Yes. The same.”
Mr. Walter finishes the meeting by commissioning Shellington to go.
“Mr. Shellington. You will go to France to Wellington’s headquarters. We will provide you a letter of introduction for you to report Wellington’s final battles in France for The Times. You will be funded by us for the trip and paid your normal fee in advance. When you return with the young lady, we will pay you an additional fee of one hundred pounds.”
Shellington is pleased with the sums of money. He can use the money to pay his tailor. To dress in the latest fashion, he often spends more than he has. Yes, the money will be good.
But, Major Sharpe is no common soldier. How can he lure her away to return to her uncle?
Now here he is in France. He has the story of Colonel Brand and Major Sharpe’s journey to Rocha Fort. Major Sharpe has returned. But, the valiant Colonel Brand was lost.
His article will be only a report of the combat. He has nothing to write that would discredit Sharpe.
Mrs. Sharpe was drawn to him. That cretin Harris called him out when he used others’ poetry to seduce Jane. He had to admit that he thought that Jane may recognize some of the poems. She was supposedly a reader of some of the authors. But, she seemed spellbound when he spoke the words. She is quite naïve of men. It is only three months that she has been with Major Sharpe. Simmerson says that she has had no real contact with any man until now.
He must admit he is a little relieved that she did not choose to leave with him. What would her husband do to him if he had lured her away? Sharpe is reputed to have killed many men in combat. He would not be able to duel Sharpe with sword or pistol as he has never learned to use either.
Mrs. Sharpe may love her husband. He is a hero, an icon of the British soldier. But, he is uncouth. She is very susceptible to any man with culture. Major Sharpe’s marriage to Jane will more likely be tested when they are in the company of such cultured men. Those other men will have to answer to Major Sharpe. Today, Shellington escapes to write, paint, sketch and chase other women. Yes, he is lucky to escape.
Now, to write his article for The Times.
Headquarters, Saint-Pee-sur-Nivelle, France
I am enabled, being just returned from the field, to report to you of this action between His Majesty’s forces in France…
I have the honour to be
Ladies and Gentlemen,
Your humble servant
P. Shellington
November 29, 1813
That night, Jane sits in her room.. Five days ago Richard had marched away with the Prince of Wales Own. The morning that they had discussed their future, he disappointed her when he didn’t know Wordsworth’s poetry. When Shellington had arrived, she was not drawn to him. Colonel Brand was much more attractive and much more, virile. Shellington was somewhat a fop.
But at the dinner Jane arranged to host, Shellington demonstrated such knowledge of literature. And, he could sketch and paint. He knew how to touch her. He was brave to treat her to cultured conversation with Richard in the room.
“Richard is much more worldly than I. He must have seen what Shellington was doing.”
“Does he not care? Will he not protect me?”
“Yet, he behaved civilly at the dinner. He did not criticize my behaviour.”
“Does he trust me?”
“But, he did leave me under Harris’ watch. Thank goodness he did.”
“What would I have done if Harris had not revealed that Shellington is a charlatan?”
“I was so dumbstruck by his words.”
“Richard is safe. He returns tomorrow. What will he think when Harris tells him how she behaved? Will he still want her?”
“I love Richard. I behaved so foolishly with Shellington. If I welcome him home and devote my attention to him, will he ignore my behaviour?”
Jane prepares to sleep. She continues to think about what the morrow will bring for her as she drifts to sleep.
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