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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 9
Jane sits at a table with a cup of tea in front of her. She contemplates her fingers in front of her on the table.
Harris has prepared her lunch, a fine one. And, now waits for further instructions.
“Will there be anything else, maam?”
“No, Thank you, Harris.” She hangs her head.
“You may go.”
Harris bows from the waist. “Thank you, maam.” He strolls slowly past her to leave.
Before he can leave, Jane looks up “There is something else, Harris.”
He turns while holding the doorknob. As she does not immediately offer her thoughts he turns to stand in front of the table with his hands folded in front of him. He nods his head. “Yes, maam?”
“Sit down, Harris.”
He takes a chair opposite Jane.
Jane folds her hands in front of her. With emotion of concern in here voice, “I want to talk with you about Major Sharpe.”
“You’ve known him longer than I have.”
“Serving soldiers don’t discuss their commanding officers with strangers, maam.” He shakes his head while saying this.
Jane becomes more serious. “Stranger? Is that what I am? His wife. A stranger?”
Harris tries to grin in a way to explain what he means. “I’m sorry. I merely meant that you’re not a soldier, maam.”
Jane looks at him. This has not made it better. She looks at the table.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He starts to stand.
Jane touches his hand. “Please, Harris.”
He sits again.
“Talk to me.” She pleads.
“Tell me what you think of him.”
Harris is caught. He would like to help Jane and Sharpe as he knows that Jane is important to him. He has seen Sharpe try to learn new things to please her. If she better understands him, perhaps it can help her to be a better wife to him.
“Not as a major, but as a man.” Jane asked softly. “What makes you love him?”
Harris has not thought that he or any of the soldiers love Sharpe. “Maam?” he doesn’t understand.
“Why would you follow him to the death?”
Reluctantly, Harris offers. “Loyalty. We are loyal to him. He is loyal to us. Life and in death. We trust him with our lives. And, he trusts us with his life.”
“And, with his wife.” Jane says tersely.
“He trusts YOU with his WIFE.” She adds this almost bitterly.
Jane withdraws her hands to sit and stare at the teacup again.
Harris rises to leave.
When he has gone, Jane holds her forehead in thought.
Cresson rides at the front of the patrol with the remaining deserter prisoners. He points ahead.
“Fort Rocha. They’ll be glad to see their new garrison.”
Rocha fort is a stone structure built along the road between Anglet and Biarritz. The fort was built many years ago as a coaching station between Bayonne and Biarritz. It is not much more than stone walls with a gate and a large building and stable. The site was selected because the caves were natural to use as cold storage. When the French designed the defensive ring outside Bayonne, they commandeered Rocha. The walls were rebuilt in sections that had deteriorated. Firing steps with access stairs were added to the walls. A ‘real’ fort would have embrasures for artillery pieces. Rocha is more of an armed camp that will slow down any attacks on Bayonne that try to go east or west of the fort.
Cresson marches his force into the fort. Captain Lacas has arranged his garrison to salute the Colonel. He greets the captain as he dismounts his horse.
“Good morning, Colonel. Captain Lacas at your service.”
“Good morning, Captain. I bring you good news. These men are here to relieve you so that you may return to your regiment."
Relieve us? The captain looks over the men who have come to garrison the fort. He notes the mix of uniforms and unit insignia. He doubts that these men are capable to garrison anything.
“And the powder? Does it stay?”
He would feel better if the powder was protected by capable soldiers. He notices that there are no wagons with the relief force, so he suspects that they powder will remain.
“Yes, they will now guard it.”
Lacas frowns as he replies.
“When shall we leave?”
“Immediately, my men will accompany you to Camp Beyris.”
“C’est bon. I will assemble my men now. We will be ready within the hour.”
Cresson walks to a group of sergeants and a lieutenant who have been in a separate group of the deserters. He looks to the lieutenant.
“What is your name?”
“Lieutenant Fillion.”
Cresson ignores the lack of addressing him as sir or colonel.
“It is now time for you to command your men and defend this fort. You will hold the fort until relieved. Should you try to escape, I remind you that we there are trustworthy French forces all around you. If you are captured outside this fort, you will be shot without question. Do you understand?
The Fillion looks to the sergeants and then back to Cresson. “D’accord.”
“Then take command of your company, lieutenant.”
The Fillion gathers the sergeants then walks them to the deserters. He assigns a sergeant to groups of twenty men then directs them to sections of the fort. As the deserters take their stations on the fort wall, Lacas’ men leave and assemble in the courtyard. When the last of the men have gathered their belongings and joined the group, Lacas salutes Cresson and the lieutenant before commanding his men to march.
Lacas and his garrison march out of the fort.
When the last of them have left the gate, Cresson addresses the new garrison.
“Soldiers! You are the new garrison of this fort. You have a second chance to make your peace with France. Lieutenant Fillion and your sergeants will lead you. We trust that you will defend the fort and the gun powder that is stored here. General Calvet and I trust you to keep it ready for us to use against the hated British. Vive l’France.”
The deserters respond likewise.
“Vive l’ France! Vive l’ France! Vive l’ France! Vive l’ France!”
Cresson turns his horse to go as the new garrison continues to cheer until Cresson and his guard completely leave the fort.
Lieutenant Fillion watches them go. When Cresson is safely out of range to hear his next words, Fillion addresses the men.
“This fort is not important. But, if we leave, we will be hunted and killed. We will stay here until either the British drive the French picquets away from us or that we are relieved to go. Now, we will eat and drink.”
One sergeant asks, “Sir, what of the walls and gates? “
“Today, we are safe. No one outside these walls threaten us. Tomorrow, we will worry about those outside.”
The sergeant smiles. “Yes, sir.”
Fillion adds, “Let’s make ourselves comfortable here. Have those that can cook prepare meals for us.”
Brand and Sharpe watch four of Brand’s men escort Shellington from the camp.
“Deeply obliged to you, sir. I’m glad to see the back of ‘im.”
“Think nothing of it. Shouldn’t be out here anyway.”
Sharpe snorts his agreement
“Matter of fact, I’m glad you called me back. I should have been here to keep an eye on Nairn.
They look away to where Nairn stands with one of the Rifleman who is watching the camp.
“Yeah, he thinks the French are trying to trap us.” He chuckles then looks up to Brand.
Brand offers a thin smile.
“Mind if I ask you another favor, sir?”
“Not at all.” He looks down to await the question.
“Well, between you and me” he looks at his feet. “the lads are getting very nervous about that powder wagon.” He points his head to where Pycroft stands talking with Zara in front of the wagon.
“So, I told Pycroft to take it up to the woods for the night. Take his gypsy girl with ‘im. I’d be damned grateful if you could put on a special guard for ‘em, sir.” He looks to Brand sincerely.
“I’ll take care of it myself.”
“Thank you very much, sir.” He smiles and leaves.
Brand watches him go.
Pope and others of Brand’s men watch Hagman and others pile the French dead to bury them.
“What’s goin’ on ‘ere, eh? We feed Frogs to the crows.”
Hagman calls, “We don’t. They’re soldiers. Same as us.”
“Soldiers? You call that bedraggled lot soldiers?”
Captain Craig intercedes “That’ll do Pope.”
Craig calls down. “Aren’t you the fellows they call ‘Chosen Men’? The scourge of the French? Sure there isn’t some mistake? You seem a bit, soft-hearted, to be chosen men.”
Harper rises from a spot that he was piling rocks on the bodies. He carries his volley gun in his left hand. The rest of the Rifles and Prince of Wales’ Own watch him.
“Chosen Men are men of honour. Men who fight ANY enemy to the death, but still bury them. They have respect.”
Brand’s men who were sent with Shellington had no need to go cautiously. They returned to Wellington’s camps by the early evening. When he returned to his tent, he collapsed into his cot and slept until morning.
After sleeping well into the next morning, he awoke and sought breakfast in the market. He has been taking his breakfast at a small inn in the village.
While he is feeding on a bowl of porridge with a pot of coffee, he sees Mrs. Sharpe and her maid walk past.
Since he has been unable to learn anything that can discredit Major Sharpe when with him, he will have to try with Mrs. Sharpe.
Shellington finishes a last spoon of porridge, quickly washes it down with a gulp of coffee, waves to the inn’s owner so that he may pay the bill, then exits to catch Jane.
“Mrs.Sharpe, Mrs. Sharpe.”
Jane hears her name called. When she turns to see who calls, she recognizes Shellington.
Jane is eager to greet him. “Mr. Shellington. I am surprised to see you here. Were you not with my husband?”
“Mrs. Sharpe I am delighted to see you here. Yes, I was with Major Sharpe until yesterday.”
“And how is my husband?”
“When I left him, Major Sharpe was well. He and his me came upon some dead French that had been killed by Colonel Brand. Major Sharpe determined that it would be too dangerous for me to continue with them. He sent me back.”
“Mr. Shellington, will you join me for dinner today to tell me of your adventure with my husband?”
Shellington hides his pleasure that Jane so easily invited him to her quarters again.
“My dear, sweet lady. I will count the minutes until I am able to join you for dinner.”
Shellington takes her gloved hand in his and kisses it.
Jane blushes at Shellington’s action.
“Mr. Shellington, it will be my pleasure to hear of your adventure. I hope that I will be audience for what you will ultimately share with the readers of the Times.”
“Yes, yes. I will share with you. I would also cherish a time to sketch you. You are such a vision. Transferring your image to paper would be an honour for me.”
Jane continues to blush.
“I would like to sit for you. Today, I am unable.” Jane nods to Isabella.
“Mrs. Harper and I have appointments this morning. And, after, we will need to prepare for dinner.”
“It is a pity, that I cannot capture your image today.”
‘Earth has not anything to show more fair;
Dull would he be of soul who could pass by
A sight so touching in its majesty.’
“I wait impatiently for the evening to come.”
Jane is struck by Shellington’s words. She does not recognize the lines as being from Wordsworth poem about Westminster Bridge.
After dark, the Prince of Wales Own have settled in for the evening. The sentries are posted around the perimeter.
Pycroft had set up a tent inside the sentry ring, but separated from the rest of the company and muleteers. The sounds of the men in the camp drop off until all is quiet.
Towards midnight, a lone figure slips into the camp out of the dark. The man approaches Pycroft’s tent stealthily. He carries a sword low against his body to be ready to use it, but to keep it from reflecting from any light.
As he passes the smoldering fire, he reverses to assure no one is behind him. When he is sure that he is alone, he turns to the tent flap. He enters the tent.
On the ground is a body wrapped in blankets. He reaches for the blanket and pulls it back ready to strike with the sword.
To his surprise, a seven-barreled volleygun greets him. Holding it is Sergeant Harper.
“Boo.”
“Drop the sword, Pope.”
Sharpe and Pycroft enter the tent. Sharpe grabs Pope by the collar and takes the sword from his hand. He holds Pope’s sword under his chin. Harper continues to aim the gun at Pope’s back.
“We want you to tell us things, Pope.
“I’ll tell you naught.”
Pycroft leans around Sharpe. “I’m going to take you into the woods, laddie. You’ll go in a man. How you come out will be entirely up to you.”
Sharpe waits for a response. Pope remains silent.
“Get out!”
Sharpe kicks Pope in the pants. “Make him talk Pycroft. I’ll be back with Brand shortly.”
Pycroft pushes Pope out and follows him. Pycroft takes Pope to a tree outside the camp. He binds him in a sitting position to the tree. From his pouch he pulls a small bag and inserts a fuse.
“There’s about two ounces of explosives here. Not enough to kill you. Just enough to make a nasty hole. Rather unpleasant with all these rats. Wolves maybe.”
He lights the fuse. “It’s a seven minute fuse. You’ll call for me in about four. I’ll return in about six.”
He starts to move the explosive towards Pope’s groin.
“If you’re lucky.”
He places the bag and stands to go.
Brand and his men had made camp near Sharpe’s but separated by a stream. To move between the two camps a man had to pass through a cave under a small waterfall. Sharpe sent scouts ahead to overcome Brand’s guard posts. Behind the scouts, he led enough of the Prince of Wales’ Own to outnumber Brand’s force. As they walked into the camp,
Sharpe thought, “So much for turning out the guard at all hours. We still surprised them.” To Harper he whispers, “Let’s wake the buggers from their sleep.” T
he men fan out to wake the sleeping bundles of men. Harper wakes Craig by pointing the volleygun into his ear. Craig opens his eyes in alarm. As he tries to comprehend what is going on, he realizes that these are British soldiers that have captured his men.
Sharpe chose to roust Brand. As he enters Brand’s tent, Brand rolls over expecting to see Pope.
“Did you kill her?”
Sharpe cocks his pistol and points it at Brand to reply. Brand freezes and looks at Sharpe without understanding why Sharpe is in his tent. “What is happening?” Sharpe grabs Brand and angrily pulls him to his feet.
“Get up!”
Sharpe shoves Brand outside where he is greeted by the sight of his force held captive by Sharpe’s men.
“Pat, tie Colonel Brand and Captain Craig’s hands.”
“Richardson, keep these men here. We will return shortly.”
“Pat, bring Craig.”
Harper nudges Craig with the volleygun to go with Sharpe. Sharpe shoves Brand to move. They walk into the dark towards the woods where Pycroft had tied Pope.
Pycroft has been watching Pope from a short distance. After three minutes, Pope shouts “It was all Brand’s doing! Stop the fuse now Major!” He searches the dark to look for Pycroft to return. He finds no one.
“He told me about it. And, he told me that if I told anybody about it, nobody would believe me.” When Pycroft doesn’t show, “Please Major!”
Pycroft, Sharpe, Brand, Craig and Harper emerge from the dark.
“Colonel, please do something.”
Pycroft kneels in front of Pope to watch him as if he is studying a flower. But, he continues to let the fuse burn.
“For the love of God, Major, please stop that fuse!”
Pycroft is distant enough to be unhurt by the charge. He continues to watch the fuse burn. Hagman with Nairn silently join the group. Nairn is unsure what is happening but will wait to learn.
Pope swivels his head to Sharpe, then to Brand.
“He’s a French spy! He’s a murderer. He made me a murderer. He made me a spy too. He’s made all of us murderers and spies.”
Craig is alarmed and offended by Pope’s outburst. He shouts back at Pope. “Never!”
Sharpe turns to Craig.
Craig approaches Sharpe. “Murderers, maybe. Oh, we did well under Brand. Plenty of loot. Lots of women, but we’re not spies.”
“Pope, maybe. But, not me.” Harper grabs his collar and pulls him backwards.
“Not me! Nor the men!”
Sharpe touches his head to think.
The fuse continues to burn.
“Please Major! I’ve told you everything I know.” Pope pleads.
Pycroft turns around to Sharpe. “Do you think he’s told us everything he knows, Sharpe?”
“No. He hasn’t told us why the Frogs put their powder magazine at risk.”
“What we’re doin’ ‘ere.” Sharpe turns on Brand and Craig.
Pope is sweating from fear.
“They want Major General Nairn. Because ‘e knows Wellington’s strategy. The Frogs were gonna jump on ya tomorrow night. No prisoners, except Nairn.”
Nairn has been standing next to Brand holding a loaded pistol to his side. Brand’s hands were tied. He listens to Pope intently while swiveling his head between Pope and Brand.
“No one was to live, not even Colonel Brand’s men. The next morning, me and Brand were to find you all dead.”
Craig is stunned by this as he realizes that no prisoners meant his men too.
“Slain by the garrison of the fort. We would report back to Wellington as ‘eroes.”
No one speaks on hearing this. Nairn is the first to respond. “Well, I’m convinced, but it won’t convince a courts-martial. They’ll say he said it under duress.”
“Besides, he can always take it all back.”
Brand smiles. He has said nothing throughout.
“Brand has ways of bringing pressure.”
Sharpe turns to Nairn. What options does he have that can bring Brand down?
The fuse has continued to burn. Pope stares at it as it burns to its last length before igniting the charge.
“Please Major Sharpe.”
“Stop the fuse!”
“Stop the fuse!”
Sharpe walks to Pope. He places his boot near the fuse.
“He took me in. He took us all in.” Pope stares at the fuse in panic. It will set off the charge any second.
“’e took you in too, didn’t ‘eh Sharpe? Eh? Remember? When ‘e rescued Lieutenant Graham? You thought ‘im an ‘ero.”
Sharpe listens intently.
“Eh? Well the French set that up. And then YOU got ‘im promoted.” Pope smirks.
“You, your report made Brand an ‘ero.”
Sharpe realizes that his suspicions those days ago, were justified. “So I did.” He stares at Pope who begs with his eyes to stop the fuse.
“I’ll have to make up for it now.”
Sharpe grabs the fuse just before it reaches the explosives bag.
Kneeling almost nose to nose with Pope. “I don’t know why I bothered.
“We’ll shoot you anyway.”
Sharpe turns to stand. Pope interrupts.
“Hold on. I think naught. I’ll turn King’s evidence.”
Sharpe turns back to Pope.
Pope has been a soldier long enough to know the tricks a soldier can use to avoid or minimize punishment.
“I might get away with a flogging. They play fair, ya know.”
Sharpe thinks about this. He knows the regulations and has used them to his advantage on more than one occasion. Pope could get away without being punished for the crimes he committed with Brand. He has an idea how to administer justice.
“I think I can make you a better offer than that.
Sharpe bends down so that Pope can see his eyes when he speaks. “How about you and ‘arper go off. If you win, we let you go.”
Pope doesn’t ask what happens if he loses.
Harper looks at Pope and smiles. Pope sees his opportunity. He bested Harper before. “Why not.”
He smiles and nods.
Sharpe pulls his sword and cuts Pope’s bonds. Together they stand. Sharpe drags Pope to Harper. Pat watches them come. He is eager to make Pope pay for the last fight.
“He’s all yours Pat.”
Harper looks into Pope’s eyes. “That suits me just fine.” He pulls the sword that serves as a bayonet for his rifle and lays it on his shoulder.
Sharpe returns Pope’s sword to him. “Here you are.” Then, he shoves him in the directions of the dark woods.
Harper smiles at Sharpe.
“Just watch ‘im, Pat. ‘e’s a crafty little bastard.”
Harper grins his broad grin then jogs off after Pope.
Sharpe turns to Brand.
“Major Sharpe, release me. You have nothing.”
“General Nairn, order Major Sharpe to release Craig and me. This will not go well when Wellington hears how Major Sharpe has overstepped his authority.”
“Colonel Brand, I think we heard enough from Sergeant Pope to hold you for charges.”
“Nairn, you will regret this.”
Outside the light, Pope descended a bank to a flat area near the stream. Shortly, Harper comes down the bank in pursuit. Pope turns to face Harper. He sweeps his sword in attack to Harper. Harper stops his momentum short of the sword and raises his sword. They trade sword attacks, but neither man is a sword fighter. They are both better brawlers. Harper is the bigger man, but Pope’s saber is longer than Harper’s sword.
Pope has trained with Brand with the sword, but Brand always beat him. He learned little. He liked to use the saber from the saddle where he could slash with the force of the horse behind him.
Pope mocks Harper. “You big Irish paddy. I beat you once. I’ll do it again. When you are dead, your woman won’t have anyone to protect her from me. I’ll kill her and that baby she carries.”
Harper circles Pope cautiously. “You horses ass. I can fight as dirty as you. This time, we fight just you and me. You can’t use my wife against me.”
“And, you’ll not hurt my family as you’ll be dead.”
Pope lunges at Harper who parries the move with his sword. They return to swords facing forward at each other. Pope backs up to draw Harper off balance. He keeps his feet firmly planted with each backward move.
Harper stands more like a wrestler than a swordsman. When his backward moves do not draw Harper into a mistake, Pope drives forward with several quick stabs. Harper blocks each thrust. When Pope’s wrist is turned on one thrust, Harper knocks the saber from Pope’s hands. The weapon clatters into the dark.
Pope retreats into a defensive crouch to wait for Harper’s attack. Pat walks menacingly before Pope. He does not strike but drops his own sword.
Before Pope can react, Harper grabs Pope by the neck. Pope yells and grabs Harper to pull him to the ground. As they fall, Harper rolls to place Pope beneath him.
Pope grunts as Harper falls onto him. He rolls to avoid being pinned by Harper’s greater weight. When they fall, they are close to the stream. Their momentum carries them off the embankment and into the stream. As they fall the five feet, they separate. Pat lands on his side. His ribs hurt from the landing.
Both of them survive the fall into the water. Pope surfaces first. He sees Harper downstream from him but ready to fight. In the water, he has lost the advantage of speed that his smaller size will need to beat the bigger man. He tries to swim to the shore where he will have a better chance.
Harper pursues him quickly. Before Pope reaches shallow water Harper grabs one of his ankles. Pope turns on him and punches Harper’s face. Harper shrugs off the blow, grabs another ankle and pulls him by the ankles until he can grab his shoulders. In water up to Patrick’s chest, he forces Pope under water. Pope punches Harper’s middle. Harper loses control of Pope long enough for him to resurface for air.
Pope surfaces spluttering and splashing to find leverage. As he rises, Harper lands a large fist on the side of Pope’s head, stunning him. Pope uses his feet push Harper away.. Dazed, but alert enough to realize he can not win in this deep water, he flees again to the shore.
This time he is able to reach water only feet deep. As he staggers from the water, Harper catches him and knocks him down. Harper beats Pope’s head against one of the rocks that line the bank.
With a last shout, Pope goes unconscious. Harper drags Pope’s limp body back into the stream where he pushes him under water to make sure Pope does not surface again. When there are no more air bubbles or motion, he pulls the limp body above the water. He searches around Pope’s neck until he finds what he is searching. Although his fingers are becoming numb from the cold, he removes the chain around Pope’s neck and releases the body.
Harper makes his way to the bank where we they first entered the water. There, he sits to watch Pope’s body float away.
“There, you English bastard. No one takes my wife and child from me. Rest in Hell!”.
The fight took a lot out of Patrick. He twirls the chain through his fingers as he sits. He sits a while to rest and assess his injuries. His ribs will hurt for a day or two. before he slowly rises to walk back to the camp.
Hagman is the first to see Harper return. He pats Sharpe’s elbow.
“Sir” Then walks to welcome Harper back.
Harper staggers to them. The fall and blows to his abdomen hurt. But, he is alive and Pope is dead. Before Hagman reaches him, he leans against a tree.
He signals Sharpe by turning a thumb up and then holding the necklace and cross that Pope had taken from Isabella. He beams a large smile at Sharpe.
Hagman ducks under his arm to help him to the group.
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