All language subtitles for 09. ASharpe Sharpes Regiment (1996)

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(Explosion)

Harper!

Harris!

Get him to the bank.

Over here!

Bloody day, Sharpe.

Bloody day.

How many have you lost?

30 today, sir.

(Explosion)

And how many do you have left?

120 can still do duty.

86 still on strength,

but maimed or sick or...

or being made so in hospitals.

- You're expecting replacements, of course.
- Yes, sir.

From 2nd Battalion, Chelmsford?

Lord Fenner, Secretary of State at War,

works to the Secretary of State of War.

Neither of them know what a war is, of course.

Politicians - they're not fit to lick your Jakes out.

- What am I supposed to see, sir?
- At the bottom.

Some mention of the South Essex.

2nd Battalion, now a holding battalion.

You won't get many men
from a holding battalion. A few boys.

A wounded man awaiting a replacement,
if you're lucky.

No draft available?
There were eight recruiting parties, last I heard.

Fenner says you've got no replacements,
so there you are.

He says something else.

Your regiment's to be broken up.

What?!

Lord Fenner suggested your men be given
to other battalions, your Colours be sent home,

and your officers exchange themselves
into other regiments, sell their commissions,

or make themselves available for our disposal.

They can't do it.

It is a pity, I agree.

Wellington was hoping
to have the South Essex in France.

Seems to think you might have been useful.

Who's in charge 2nd Battalion, Chelmsford?

(Explosion)

- Girdwood, I think. Colonel Girdwood.
- Do you know him?

Never met him in my life, sir.

Authorises you and Harper to go to Chelmsford
and select replacements.

Do you want the South Essex to die?

No, well, go to Chelmsford. Find men.

If there are none there, then find others.

Save the regiment, Sharpe.

Yes, sir.

Oh, er...Horse Guards first.
Let 'em know you're there.

Oh, they'll know, sir.

Davis!

Come on, keep up! Keep up!

The sergeant major's dead, sir.

The old bugger's gone, has he?

You've got his job, Harper.
Harris, give him his rank.

Another one here, Sergeant. We've lost him.

- Lord Fenner.
- My lord.

- My Lord Fenner.
- Please, my lord.

- Please, my lord.
- My dear Lord Fenner, I am widowed.

Quiet! Please.

700 men, Pat.

700 drawing rations and pay,
and that's official.

- Where are they?
- Chelmsford.

Where they're supposed to be.

Whoa, there! Whoa!

There's no guard been mounted.

Oi, you! Drummer boy!

(Squeals of laughter)

Who the devil are you?

Ladies,

I think it best you leave us.

Do you have such a thing
as...an Officer of the Day?

Of course.

- Who is it?
- Well, actually, me.

Actually, you?

Yes. Captain Carline.

And you are?

HARPER: Right-hand man.

On the drum, right-hand man.

In line, right marker.

- In line to the right.
- I'm Major Richard Sharpe.

- South Essex.
- Forward! Shoulders back!

- You've heard of me?
- Er, yeah. Um...you...

You took the French Eagle at Talavera, sir.

- But you haven't heard of a guard detail?
- Sir?

- Why wasn't there a guard on the gate?
- Ah, well, um...

- I don't know, sir.
- You don't know?

You're Officer of the Day. No guard mounted.

What do you do
when you're not playing blind man's buff?

HARPER: Shoulders square!

SHARPE: What you see
is Mr Harper parading your men.

He is the Sergeant Major of the 1 st Battalion.

What I will have you do
is parade for him, as awkward squad,

every hour from six o'clock this evening
until he tells me you're ready.

Well, get a shift on, man!

Move yourself!

Now, Mr Carline...

...pray you count me that cocktail crew
on the square.

Straighten up.

Eleven.

SHARPE: That's funny.

At Horse Guards, I was told gospel
you draw ration and pay for 700.

- HARPER: Everybody now in an orderly line.
- Well?

Face forward! Shoulders square!

Where is the 2nd Battalion?

I don't know, sir.

Who commands it?

Colonel Girdwood, sir.

Come with me.

- Still alive, Ted Carew?
- Permission to speak, still jerking, sir.

I was with you at Talavera, where I left my leg
and drew a lacquery one.

(Taps wood)

Bloody hell!

Must have 800 muskets here.

Every one clean as a flute.
Never been fired since they was proved.

When 2nd Battalion marched out,
they took 400 old 'uns.

- What did you say, Ted?
- Old 'uns, sir.

The 2nd Battalion,

where did they march to?

Here's the paper of it, signed proper, I do swear.

Where did they go, Ted?

The 2nd Battalion.

Chitties for everything, from flints to ball-pullers.

Powder by the pound,
ball by the barrel, pukka weights.

What about the paperwork, Ted?
Must still be letters coming in for 'em.

You'll have to ask Captain Carline about that.

Ted, you tell me.

It's all sent on to the War Office,
to Lord Fenner's secretary.

So the 2nd Battalion does exist?

Upon my honour, I know not,
but they still recruits.

I told him - Mr Carline, who said I was drunk -
which I was drunk -

but not so drunk I didn't dekko
Horatio Haver camp knifing it down the road

with a dozen happy recruits
and the drums was badged.

You're sure it was a recruiting party?

Sergeant Haver camp wore our badge,
but the recruits never got here.

We haven't had a new lad in six months.

Pat.

Bugger all.

Why would they want to go hiding
the battalions?

- Think this war's addled my wits, Patrick?
- Mmm.

Oh, well, er...probably not.

(Horse's hooves)

What are you?

Truth to tell, I'm not quite sure.

On this occasion I'm a galloper
with a letter for Major Richard Sharpe,

which I tucked safe about me, but...

can't now for the life of me...

Ah, I have it. An invitation.

(Laughter)

I'm afraid Parliament wishes I hadn't.

Very good, very good.

Uniform fits like a ball of wax,
but those boots won't do.

They did very well for a colonel of Napoleon's
Imperial Guard I had to kill to get them.

The yellow line in the carpet.

Observe it. Go no further than.

(Laughter)

Make a knee, listen, smile.

Answer briefly - yes, no, or thank you.

A word to the wise.

Coming back,

keep your sword from between your legs.

It's not unknown for us to become entangled
walking backwards.

Now.

Bravo.

Bravo.

Bravo.

Major Richard Sharpe, Your Royal Highness,
of the South Essex Regiment.

How do you do?

Eh?

- Your Majesty...
- What d'you say?

What d'you say?

Did you say "eh"?

He said "eh"!

(Laughter)

What are you doing in rifle green
if you're South Essex? Ain't they red?

Yes, sir.

Sir.

Come up. Come up!

Come up!

Now, look sharp!

(Laughs)

May I call you Dick?

Honoured, Your Majesty. (Clears throat)

Call me... Well, call me Your Royal Highness,
but look you...

Damn me, but I am the one
is honoured entirely,

Dick.

(Laughs)

Call him Dick. Call him Dick.

(Trumpets)

Vive l'Empereur! Vive l'Empereur!

Vive l'Empereur! Vive l'Empereur!

Take it, Dick.

Take it. It's yours.

Now, tell me, Dick, of that bloody day.

How you fought.

How the flames burn the grass.

Smoke.

How the wounded scream as they burn.

You slaughtered the French.

And the snakes.

You see, all the snakes in the grass
were slithering away

from the flames caused by our cannonballs.

Do you see?

We were enveloped in flames.

Were we not, Dick?

Oh, that bloody day!

He er...thinks he was there.

Let him.

We were, sir...enveloped in flames.

Oh, every detail etched.

So, Dick, what brings you back to England?

I...

(Clears throat) Sir...I'm looking
for our 2nd Battalion, sir. It's gone missing.

Missing? Well, that won't do.

They want to break up the 1 st Battalion,
abolish the South Essex.

That won't do at all.

Where's Fenner?

Lord Fenner?

You're the fellow. Come up.

Dick would know where his men have gone.

Oh, come up, Fenner.

Dick tells me
you want to break up the South Essex.

Oh, no, sir.

Well, he's convinced that you do, you see.
You've spirited them off, he says.

Oh, no.

Well, Dick says you do, though.

And Dick wants them back.

And what of the 2nd Battalion?
Dick tells me it's missing.

No, sir. It marches on paper.

Oh. I never tread there.

Not on paper. No, my brother Freddy does that.

York, Commander in Chief, you see.
No, very difficult.

So, not missing, Lord Fenner.

No, the battalion exists on paper,

enabling us to assign stray men -

men who would not otherwise be paid -
until they can be found a proper billet.

Ain't it a miracle the way it all works?

Do you hear that, Dick?

Not missing, just hiding in the paperwork.

What have we got for Dick instead?
We must have a regiment for Dick.

He ain't paper.

We'll find Major Sharpe a new regiment, sir.

At once, Fenner, and look sharp about it!

(Laughter)

- You're in London, Major?
- At the Rose Tavern.

Ooh, best have you out of there
before you catch something.

Back to Spain, Fenner, where we need him.

You'll have fresh orders tomorrow.

Well...

Glad to renew acquaintance, though, Dick.

More salubrious surroundings
than when we took the Eagle, eh?

Damn me. Was it not hot that day?

Very hot, sir.

Simmerson calls him
a bastard son of a peasant whore.

Does he intrigue you, Anne?

No.

Though he is handsome.

FENNER: Oh, he is. He is.

Do what best you can to find out what he's after.

Major Sharpe?

Perhaps I can help you home.

My carriage is outside.

My room is some distance away, ma'am.

My room...is not.

Will you not tell me your name now?

No.

Whores don't.

They do.

Or how will you ask for them again?

You just want to boast
you've bedded one of Prinny's ladies.

No.

What have you to do with Lord Fenner?

Nothing.

But I'll tell you he's a liar.

He is. He's a politician.

He'd eat the contents of his own gut
for money or power.

So what's Fenner to you?

He's nothing.

He uses me occasionally.

Do you let him know your name?

Yes.

Then why not me?

You have no need of it.

How did you know Lord Fenner was lying?

He said my 2nd Battalion
marches only on paper.

It doesn't.

No?

I've been told they're still recruiting men.
And I believe it.

Are you going to look for them?

Of course.

Don't.

Forget your battalion.

Don't make Fenner your enemy.

Why not? What can he do to me?

Kill you.

Go back to Spain.

I'll be going back to Spain as soon as I can,
but I'll be taking men back with me.

If you know anything about my battalion,
tell me now.

There are stairs at the back.

You will not be seen leave.

You clawed at me,
dug your nails in my back, used me.

Now tell me what you know.

I'm telling you to go.

So I says...

"Look up at them, ye bunch
of cowardly bastards, and be struck down,

be made of blocks of stone."

Says I.

Ah.

But their thread,

their thread...

The earth shakes from their thread.

So with their bayonets twirling and twirling,

and the drums going rat-a-tat-tat,

rat-a-tat-tat,

then the whole world goes...

bang!

- (Whistling)
- Don't go away.

The plunder, Patrick.

Which is half mine.

Don't need to remind me.

Where are you going to cash it?

An old friend. One I've trusted
long before our acquaintance.

- Oh, I'll go with you.
- No, you won't.

There's some of my life I keep even from you.

(Bawdy laughter)

I find myself in your debt, so to speak.

Major Sharpe seems very determined.

How did he perform?

Was he...churlish?

Ardent?

Hasty?

Bruising?

Grateful?

Don't be absurd.

If I find I am poxed in due course,
I shall know you lie.

What will happen to him?

It is often exciting to wield power
at the lowest level,

that of life or death.

I'm excited.

I have sent out death.

(Clears throat and spits)

CHILD: Give us a penny, mister.

Give us a penny.

Cheeky sod!

Lovely bum, lass.

Behave yourself.

Come on, now. Come on!

Yeah!

Good. (Laughs)

Feel better now?

WOMAN: What do we want, soldier?

Less of your language, Maggie.

Dear Christ! Tis yourself!

Tis me.

Sharpey! Oh, Dick!

Maggie Joyce!

I'm not as I was, Dick.

I am someone now.

Same as you.

Me?

I'm trying to be.

Well, you must.

Yeah. You always told me that.

So, what is it?

It's this.

Plunder.

Taken only from the French,
and only when they'd fought and died.

You're a rich man.

I will be.

With your help.

Can you sell 'em for me?

A good price will take longer than a bad one.

Can you wait?

I've got a year's salary in French gold put by.
Take as long as you need.

You're a lucky one.

And to think, when I first saw you,

I didn't know whether to drown you or eat you,
you were that skinny.

Are you going to stay with me?

I am.

Let's get drunk.

We shall.

I haven't been drunk...

Not felt safe to get drunk since...

Since God knows when!

(Dogs growling)

Listen, listen.

You're being followed. You're being followed.

Take this.

Get down. Pretend you're drunk.

(Laughs drunkenly)

(Gunshot)

Who are you? Eh? Who sent you?

Look. South Essex.

- Dick?
- Maggie!

Come here. Come here!

Can your boys throw these bodies in the river?

They must strip them, burn their clothes.

But the most important thing is this.

- Are you listening?
- I am.

You must pass the word that both men
were soldiers, South Essexers. You hear?

- I hear.
- And have it said that we are the dead men.

Sharpe and his sergeant are dead.

Come here.

- Take care, dear.
- I will.

So, er...what'll we do with ourselves
now that we're no more?

- Rise again, Patrick.
- Ah.

We're going to find that 2nd Battalion.

How will we do that?

We're going to join the army.

(Rhythmic drumbeat)

What d'you mean, not had no dinner?

(Chuckles)

Let no man tell me he's not had no dinner.

For I counts that an 'ideous crime,

as will any officer of the gallant South Essex,

which, from my regimentals, you see I am.

No man I ever beat up for glory
ever wants for his scran.

Once this gleaming coin is took...

...a bargain is struck,

as 'twixt you and me,

His Majesty and thee.

Bread? Six pound at once.

And while you're with me,

all you can drink!

I turns off the tap never.

Tis a constant amber flow.

(Approving laughter)

Watch the air fill with gold, lads...

...as I pass my hand over it.

(Gasps)

What is called bounty.

Twenty-three pounds,

seventeen shillings and sixpence,

which cannot include this.

For this is a gift from His Majesty himself,

who said to me,

"Here, Horatio,

go find me lads

as will fight for me and catch me Eagles,

as our hero the gallant Major Sharpe.

Major Sharpe? Sharpe, eh?

Drummer,

drum me inside where I may feed my lambs
and give them spirit.

Any as wishes may join.

Can I take my dog, sir?

Of course, young chubby-duster like you.
Glad to have him.

WOMAN: Charlie Weller!

Come on, lads. There's ale aplenty.

I turns off not the tap ever.

I know you'll have it.

Why take so long...soldier?

- How do you know?
- I know.

Regiment? Where did you serve?

33rd.

India.

You didn't desert?

I wasn't caught, so I didn't.

I can't touch you, even if you're lying.

Name of?

Vaughn.

Dick Vaughn.

That'll do me.

Ever been flogged?

Once.

Aye, you will have been.

Hark ye now.

I shall watch ye.

A foot wrong, Dick,

and I'll have the rest of the skin off your back
like stripped-down Daisy, as you know I can.

Pick it up.

(Thunder rumbles)

Old soldiers never learn, do they?

Only one trade thee's good for.

Old snoddy like thee.

(Snoring)

You think I'm an eejit cos I'm Irish.

I do not.

Bless my soul, I do not, Paddy.

Take it.

No.

I won't.

Now, why not?

Be a darling and tell me why, Paddy.

Do I get a bed?

A bed?

I'll need a bed.

Paddy, just for you, there'll be a bed fit for a king,

size of a field.

Good. That's great.

Cos that's what I'll need.

(Thunder)

Name?

O'Keefe.

Come on, lads. Line up! Line up!

Time to get received, sworn and tested.

Declare, as medical duty,

each man of height, weight,
physical excellence in every particular, fit...

...to serve.

Done.

Come on, lads. Straighten up.

(Drumbeat)

- Now, you take care of yourself.
- Bye, Rosie.

Bye.

You, get into line!

(Carriage approaching)

Out of the way! Clear the road!

Simmerson!

Jane!

Form on the road.

Two ranks on the road, damn your eyes!

Here, there's one that's flapped. Comb the
wood.

Come back, you silly bugger!

Come here.

That you should disgrace me.

Ho-ho! I shall march you till you drop.

- Simmerson!
- I shall.

- I would have treated you like gentlemen.
- So, who's the girl?

- But now you shall march till you drop.
- His niece Jane.

- She's grown-up now.
- Form on the road.

- Still the same.
- Two ranks.

But sure, you only met her once.

Aye.

I'll teach you to flap, lad.

I'll teach you to flap!

You take the king's shilling. You drink my ale.

Get him back in the ranks! Back in the ranks!

- They say you've served before.
- That you should disgrace me.

Yeah.

Why join again if this is the life you must lead?

We all have our reasons.

I shall march you till you drop.

I shall.

I saw the girl.

I loved her and she laughed.

It seemed best to come away.

You're a fool, Marriott.
You won't stop loving her just cos you've parted.

Oh, you'd know all about that,
wouldn't you, Dick?

I shall tell you.

There's a lot worse than this to come,
so keep your gob shut.

Never look an officer,
sergeant or corporal in the eye.

Say nothing but "Yes, sir. No, sir."

Keep very clean and you'll live.

Talk?

Thee'st...

Thee'st knows better than talk in the ranks.

Form rank!

Form two ranks.

Form two ranks!

By the front, quick...march!

(Drums)

Rifles.

Play no foolish pranks
by gazing round and talking in the ranks.

For there's nought a sergeant more charms
than to see a soldier steady under arms.

And when you march, see you labour

to plant left foot with the flam of the tabor.

Slow down, damn you!

Corporal Vaughn, slow down!

Do you hear me, you heathens?

Slow down, you scum!

Are you listening to me?

Do you hear? Slow down!

I'll have every man flogged.

Corporal Vaughn, slow down!

Do you hear me, you heathens?

Slow down, you scum.

Slow down!

What you got there, Horatio?

Cut-and-run boys? They too fast for you?

Piss thy breeches!

Slow down, you heathens!

I'll have you...I'll have you flogged.

Do you hear me?

Did you think you could hide from me?

I'm sorry.

Sorry that you ran away,
or sorry that I found you?

Your aunt has missed your company
this past month, and I...

I have wanted to share some news with you
since the day it reached me.

Major Sharpe...

...is dead.

Does the news not fill your heart with joy?

It does mine, my dear.

Hmmm.

On your feet.

Whole bloody army here.

Get that dog out the way, Charlie.

Colonel Girdwood can't abide dog flesh.

(Fly buzzing)

Pair of shoes, one. Pantaloon drill pair, one.
Shirts, two. Undress jacket, one.

- Aren't they a bit big?
- Look perfect to me.

I'll have that. That's about my size, that is.

Splendid.

Sword.

Get your bloody pantaloons on.

You don't want to go parading stark-bollock
naked afore the sergeant, now, do you?

He'll swing on 'em, won't he?

Bloody madcap, you!

Shako!

Cane.

Door.

Morning, Smith.

Sir.

Sergeant Haver camp came in this morning.

What did he bring?

Twenty-four men, sir.

Any...Irish 'fest their ranks?

One of that ilk, sir.

Lynch.

Set Sergeant Lynch to squad them.

Filth!

You filth!

Get your hat on!

Get your hat on!

Get into line!

Get into line! Get into line!

Filth!

Move, filth!

Filth!

Get into line!

Filth!

(Drums)

(Dog barking)

That man

has a dog!

Get away from me. Get away from me.

Corporal, take this dog away and shoot it.

(Dog whimpers)

Up, filth, and back to your ranks!

- Thank you, Sergeant Lynch.
- Sir.

I can admit fear.

Any man who does not feel fear,

and I brand him a liar.

I was bit by a mastiff when I was a child.

Who are you?

Name, filth!

- Filth, sir.
- No, not filth.

- Your name, filth.
- O'Keefe, sir.

You have served.

So, too, have you.

Both of you.

Regiments?

33rd, sir.

4th Royal Irish Dragoons, sir.

Arran's Irish Cuirassiers, sir.

- The Irish Horse, sir.
- Hold your tongue.

Irish this, Irish that.

Who is King of Ireland, you swine?

King George, sir.

Say it louder.

(Louder) King George, sir.

- Louder!
- Louder!

King George of England, sir.

God bless him.

I'll not have Irish tricks. By God, I will not.

Blether, blether!

I was ambushed by black Irish
when I was a young officer.

Badly ambushed.

You will note this Irisher, Sergeant.

Note him well.

Black as bog.

Pardon me, sir.

Shut up, you damn fool!

I'm told we are deemed
to have spent our bounties

- due to the charge for necessaries, and yet...
- Filth! That man, scum!

How dare you, sir?

How dares you speak to an officer?

Get back in rank.

Get up.

They treat us like animals.
We're not animals. We're men.

- (Gunshot)
- (Dog whines)

We're not.

We're soldiers now.

Company, atten-shun!

You is scum!

Keep those muskets straight!

Filth, right face!

You is scum!

You is filth!

But I will make you soldiers.

Eyes right!

Halt!

Right about face!

Get up!

Get your arms up! Come on, get a move on.

As one man!

You're out of step!

You're out of step, you idiot!

Eyes front, filth!

Eyes front.

Watch it, you Paddy filth!

Watch it!

About face!

Scum, get it right!

Left face!

Right face!

Left face! Left face!

You filthy scum!

Keep those muskets straight!

Black as bog.

Order...

arms!

Filth!

Pick it up!

Pick it up!

Above the head.

On the spot. Quick march!

Filth!

- What are you?
- Filth. I am filth.

- Louder.
- I am filth.

Up! Up!

You hopeless, hopeless boy.

Ten more minutes.

Kill him.

Kill him. You'd kill him
if it was me, you filth, wouldn't you?

En garde!

Argh!

Paid for all our food on the march here.

Every drop of ale, too.

We even have to pay to black our boots.

- They're necessaries.
- Yep.

You always get your pay stopped
for necessaries.

Black ball, pipeclay,

laces, soap, tea...

You want tea, don't you?

I'll kill Sergeant Lynch for having Buttons shot.

You'll do nothing, Charlie. Gets better.

Steady.

(Drums)

(Shouting)

Smart and shiny.

Where do they go?

Filth, get fell in!

Paddy, morning prayers.
One pace forward, march.

God save the King.

Again, Paddy filth!

God save the King.

One pace backwards, march!

Left...

turn!

Quick march!

Gentlemen, more champagne?

Come on, boy! More champagne.

Squad...halt!

Left...face!

Remove your stocks, filth.

What think you of me now, Jane?

Am I not a very monostich
of military science and art?

I take beasts and I give them form as heroes.

My gratitude to your uncle
and Lord Fenner is deep, Jane.

They found me languishing on half pay
for being ambushed dreadfully in Ireland -

that sink, that cess bog -

and they plucked me out...

to place me as I now am.

Trainer of heroes,

a font of wealth for us all,

country and prosperity,

and with you, dare I say, love?

I dare say you dare, Colonel.

I hope you know what you're doing, Girdwood.

Sure they won't wilt?

They'll all stand, Sir Henry.
They'll prove their mettle.

And the spavined one?

Rear rank, third file, second squad.

He ain't got two minutes left in him. Do you see?

He answers to Brown, and will stand.

Ha! He knows the names
of each one of 'em!

Damned if I could tell 'em apart.

Marriott?

Marriott!

You worry me, lad.

You're not going to live the way you flog yourself
every damn thing you do.

Loiter. We can take us time.
Lynch can't see us from here.

Be steady.

They should not do this to us.

What? Make us work? Why not?

- This is work for labourers.
- We are labourers.

Labourers for the King.

For politicians.

Any other bugger high or low.

- Even corporals, their heirs and successors.
- Stand steady, lads! Stand steady!

Hear that?

Two hours to the chime, gentlemen.

And not one man has moved
so much as an inch.

Nor will they, else they will be flogged.

Colonel Girdwood trains 'em
as by the Prussian method, do you not, sir?

I do, Sir Henry.

And now you shall see their paces.

Sergeant Major,

carry on!

Battalion will pass in review.

March!

About face.

Quick march.

Right wheel!

Make a damn fine husband for you, my dear.

Battalion...halt!

You may burn powder, Sergeant Major.

Forward march!

Make ready!

Present!

Present!

Fire!

(Dog whimpers)

Get that damn dog!

Fire!

I think you'll find they're all well-trained men,

excellent fellows.

Look at this bastard here.

Up, up, up, up, up!

Good jaw on him.

Damn good teeth.

Open your mouth, man!

There, 50 guineas for him.

(Dog barks)
- Shut up!

Bugger off!

Rascal. Come here, rascal!

She won't hurt you.

She's not as fierce as she seems.
It's just there's a colonel...

It's you.

Major Sharpe!

Yes.

My uncle said you were dead.

He would have me dead.

Why are you here?

I came to find my 2nd Battalion.

Are you still an officer?

A major.

(Dog whimpers)

I saw your name in the Times.

They said you were very heroic.

No. I got into a cavalry charge
cos I couldn't stop the horse.

- I...
- Will...?

Go on.

Will someone try to kill you again?

Your uncle would, if he knew I was here.
And others, too.

They're selling men, are they not?

They auction them to other regiments.

The officers make their bids over lunch.

I hate it.

They boast at table about it
as if they were black slaves they'd bred up.

Size, strength. Worse.

My uncle said it was legal, but it's not, is it?

No, it's not. It's all about money.

All money in England, blood and dying in Spain.
And I need men.

50 guineas a man,

10,000 guineas for this field day alone.

- No wonder they want me dead.
- How terrible.

Yeah, it is.

What will you do?

Get away from here tonight.

But they have militia patrolling
from here to Wickford.

Fishermen are rewarded
for every deserter they capture.

We keep a boat in the boathouse.

You could cross here.
They don't guard the north bank.

Maybe.

Listen, Jane...

Yes?

Can you leave us money and food?

- There are two of us.
- You'll stop the auctions?

I shall stop them,

with your help.

(Dog barks)

Aargh, the dog!

I cannot bear it.

She's attacking Colonel Girdwood.

I must stop her.

Aye, do, for he kills dogs.

Vaughn, Marriott! Where are you, filth?

(Dog yelps)

Jane, that damn dog!

I will not beat it. I will rather beat you.

Where is he, filth?

Don't know, Sergeant. Here's his shovel.

I don't want his bloody shovel. I want him.

Why, I do believe the filth's up and skipped.

You filth! Keep your eyes peeled.

Keep your eyes peeled, filth!

Fire!

(Gunshot)

Marriott!

Marriott!

No!

No! I'd rather drown. Let me!

Please.

You fool!

All you face is a flogging.

No.

I could not bear to be flogged.

Please don't let them.

Get up!

Get up!

She would despise me.

I must not be flogged.

You will not be now.

You treacherous, murderous filth!

By God, that you are an Irishman is terrible.

- Terrible!
- Sergeant.

Did you bring him down?

I did, sir.

He will be dead.

That's the way of it.

Well, you have your tools. Bury him.

Ah, Sir Henry, we have the scoundrel.

- You had better. Is he dead?
- He is that, sir.

Show me. Go on.

It's Simmerson!

Not much of a damned hunt
if the quarry's dead before we get here.

But better dead than deserted, eh?

Eh?

How dare you look up at an officer!

- How dares he!
- There's worse, sir.

This man made to assault me, sir.

Which man? Which man?

This ramping, stamping,

leathering swash of an Irishman,

sir.

Irish?

Oh, indeed.

Irish rogue. Irish dog. Irish scum. Irish filth.

Irishman.

They were ever so, the Irish.

Would ruin me.

Would. Did.

Ambush.

Would have broke a lesser man.

Seize Paddy secure.

Over here, Paddy!

Said goodbye to your chum, have you?

Why should I? Paddy can take a flogging
as well as the next man.

Flogging? Ain't no use flogging an old snoddy.

He'll be killed.

Same as arse-face down there.

See that stake?

Hold his bridle so that he sees it.

Fair play, fair play.

He sees it, sir. Don't you, Paddy?

When you reach the stake
is when we come for you.

Now, fair cuts
and fair vigorous points, gentlemen.

Take this as an opportunity for sword exercise.

Better than butchers' carcasses, but less steady.

He will run, not stand,

for he is an Irishman.

Not yet. Not yet.

We wait on our guests.

Ah, Sir Henry.

(Gunshot)

Go on! Go on!

Go on, Dick.

GIRDWOOD: I believe
we have more than one quarry, gentlemen.

Do we pursue?

Damn me, Colonel, we better.
Better catch 'em both.

View halloo!

View halloo!

We'll show them what riflemen can do.

- No, damn it! They're us!
- They don't know that, do they?

Go on! Come on!

Come on!

(Horse whinnies)

View halloo!

Whoa!

Damn!

View halloo!

Over there!

View halloo!

Come on, you men!

Patrick,

you see the house, the boathouse?

That's where we're going.

It'll be deuced awkward for Lord Fenner
if those rogues get away.

Oh, impossible, Sir Henry.

The militia surround the whole island.

Come on!

Keep looking, men.

Keep your eyes peeled.

Come on!

(Clatter)

Oh, you would shoot me?

No! No, no, I would not.

Thank God the powder's wet.

- Miss Gibbons, are you all right?
- Yes. Oh, dear.

No. Here's the food.

Oh, dear! I know you would not, of course.

The militia are out.

Yes.

Thank you for this.

They'll come here to warn us of the escape.
Please, hurry.

HARPER: Sir.

- You'll stop the auctions?
- I'll stop them.

What will happen to Colonel Girdwood?
Will he be disgraced?

He'll be finished.

Good. Good.

I shall not marry him.

Marry?

That man?

That tar-faced creature?

My uncle demands it.
But if he is in disgrace...

He will be.

Don't you worry about that.

HARPER: Sir.

Hurry.

I'll come back.

Will you?

Yes.

My dear Richard.

- Sir.
- Yes, I heard you were in town.

And field rank? My word!

Is this hero the sergeant
I taught to read and write?

It is, sir.

And you have ever my gratitude.

- How do you fare, sir?
- Well. I fare well.

You? What do you expect here?

I wait for the Duke of York.

I have a very grave matter to discuss.
And the Duke of York must hear me.

Only if you speak up. He's at Windsor.

When he returns, I doubt he'll see you.

Then I need your help, sir.

There is none I would trust more.

It is not convenient that you are here.

You said this business was urgent.

I would hardly have disturbed
Your Lordship otherwise.

The business concerns Girdwood.

At Foulness.

Auctions.

I do not imagine, sir, for one moment
that you know of what I speak.

Let us assume that you have some influence
over those who might.

- Sir Henry Simmerson, perhaps.
- Let us assume that.

Should news of Sir Henry's activities
at Foulness become public...

...a mighty scandal will ensue.

You know that it would only need a small one
piled on the ones that have gone before

to have us all out, my lord.

Did I know of that which you speak,

I would ask you what proof you have.

- The word of a distinguished officer.
- What officer?

Major Richard Sharpe. I knew him as a
sergeant.

Sharpe?

He lives?

You know him?

Of him.

I saw the gallant major today,

and he told me all about it.

I persuaded him to remain silent
for the time being.

He has no absolute proof,

and agreed to leave the resolution
of this affair in my hands.

What do you want?

I'm sure you have something.

Major Sharpe wants his battalion.

There is no battalion, Sir William.

Paper only.

Of course.

Sharpe would, were I to offer it,

settle for command of a rifle battalion
in the American War.

America?

It could be arranged, I suppose,

so long as Sharpe remains silent
about this preposterous affair.

If there is no evidence, my lord,

what does it matter if Sharpe's silent or not?

I really...

(Door opens)

Just a moment.

I really am most obliged to you, Sir William.

Men of sense and discretion
are rare commodities these days.

We must make sure
that your talents do not go unrewarded.

Which it was Lord Wellington himself,

himself sore pressed, which he said to me,

"You are the forlorn hope of all our anticipations,
so you are, Patrick."

He said that to me. To me.

We are...as we were...

(Tearful) ..when seeking glory
on the sanguinary fields of Spain,

right down to the dust in my pocket.

M'lady.

I thought it best to meet you here,
given the way you've behaved.

You're a fool.

Ma'am?

You go to Horse Guards.

They, not being foolish, send for Sir William,
knowing he had been your colonel.

You, in your innocence, tell him everything.

Sir William is an honourable man.

He's an ambitious man.

He's clever, too.

He chose to speak with Lord Fenner.

He went to Lord Fenner?

Hm, who will reward him with higher office,

and you with a rifle battalion in America.

I always trusted him.

I trusted no-one more.

Oh, he means you no harm.
He merely wishes to avoid a scandal.

I, on the other hand,
wish to destroy Lord Fenner,

and you, Major Sharpe,
are the man who will help me.

Why should I want to help you?

Why should I trust you
when I don't even know your name?

My name is Lady Camoynes.

Dowager Countess Camoynes.

I know all about Simmerson and Girdwood.

But there must be proof
if there's to be a scandal.

You must find accounts, letters -
anything on paper - and bring it to me.

You have a day, two days perhaps,
to find written evidence.

After that, the camp will be gone,

and the men at Foulness
scattered in a hundred garrisons.

Why do you wish to destroy Lord Fenner?

He ruined my husband and caused his death.

I now pay off my husband's debts

by clambering over him and under him
when his needs demand I should.

I am still in his debt.

You may help me pay it.

Bring me proof, Major.

GIRDWOOD: Shako!

Cane.

(Tuts)

Door.

Morning, Smith.

Good morning.

Where is Captain Smith?

Smith!

I am Sharpe. Major.

The 1 st Battalion, the South Essex.

Until three days ago, Private Vaughn.

Outside is my sergeant major.

An Irishman you hunted through the marshes.

His name is Harper.

And that,

on your Shako badge,

is the Eagle he took from the French...

...with me that bloody day.

You have orders? I command here.

Yes, I have orders.

Show me your orders.

I come direct from Horse Guards.

Ha! Horse Guards?

You may not Horse Guards me, sir.

I am well aware of Horse Guards,
and they are well aware of me.

Is Lord Fenner Secretary at War,
or is he not that position, sir?

Is the Duke of York Commander in Chief,
or is he not, sir?

To whom do you look for advancement?

Your chief or your friends,

sir?

I command here.

No, I command here.

- No, no.
- Yes!

Colonel Girdwood, I...

Colonel Girdwood is under arrest.
And you are under my command.

You will confine Colonel Girdwood
to his quarters,

and obtain all papers
appertaining to this battalion.

Go through this place.

Every scrap of paper.

Every notebook.

Everything.

What you looking at, filth?

God save...Ireland.

O'Keefe?!

Who?

I am Sergeant Major Harper of the 1 st.

And you are...?

Filth?

Lynch, sir.

God...save...Ireland.

Say it, Lynch.

Go on. Say it!

God save...

...Ireland.

Louder!

God...save...Ireland.

Louder!

God save Ireland.

God save Ireland.

God save Ireland.

God save Ireland.

God save Ireland.

HARPER: Battalion!

To my orders.

Who gave you leave to move, you tub of lard?

Stand still.

Battalion will form line on number one company.

Wait for it!

Battalion, form!

My name is Major Richard Sharpe
of the 1 st Battalion, the South Essex.

We fight in Spain and are hard-pressed for men.

Some would have us too hard-pressed,

and would disband us,

our Colours put up,
our honours and deeds forgotten.

Not I.

There are more honours to come,

more glory to be bitten on,
more French to be confounded and slain.

I am taking some of you back with me
to do these glorious things.

We march at first light.

Rouse at two.

And remove those damn silly stocks
from your necks.

Go on.

You won't be charged for their loss.

Three cheers for Major Sharpe, lads.

Hip, hip, hip...

Huzzah!

Hip, hip, hip...

Huzzah!

Hip, hip, hip...

Huzzah!

(Cheering)

(Footsteps)

I know what this place is.

You're not soldiers.

You're crimpers.

Skin merchants.

Thieves.

You may resign.

Any of you.

But if you do,

you will not march with us tomorrow morning.

See, we're going to Spain.

You may not wish to go.

You may be cowards and rogues.

You may not wish
to become officers and gentlemen again.

If you ever were.

Count the money, Smith. Muster the men.
They haven't been paid for weeks.

Give each man five shillings.

- Forgive my haste, Miss Jane.
- It seems...

You have the ledgers, all you need, sir?

- ...sir, that you are always...
- Thank you, Mrs Grey.

Miss Jane, I am sorry, but it is duty.

I ever answer the call of duty with alacrity.

I pray you give Sir Henry
our most dutiful regards.

It will be my earnest pleasure.

One day, Miss Jane, duty done,
I look to be constant at your side.

- Anything?
- No, nothing.

All the recruiting forms
have no regiment entered on them.

Get the clerks to enter, where it says Regiment,
"1 st Battalion, the South Essex" on every form.

Oh, and get rid of O'Keefe and Vaughn.

All right, I'll take care of those two squaddies.

Girdwood's gone, sir. He took a horse and...

(Knock at door)

Where's Girdwood? Colonel Girdwood?
Sir Henry? Where?

Sir Henry is not at home.

Not so.

- Compliments to his niece.
- Miss Gibbons is not...

- Miss Gibbons, where's Girdwood?
- Not here, Major Sharpe.

- In the library, perhaps.
- Miss Gibbons.

What is it, Miss Gibbons?

It is that...

- It is that I have defied her and...
- Defied her?

I am now a prisoner in this house.

Your money and food, I stole it.

Why have you come here?

I need evidence of the auctions,
if I'm to stop them.

And there must be records, accounts.

Two ledgers.
My uncle made me fill in the figures.

But Colonel Girdwood
has taken them to London.

Damn him!

- Where in London?
- To my uncle's house.

Where will he put them for safekeeping?

I don't know.

I've only been once to his house.
I don't go to London.

Major Sharpe, I am not of them.

I am the daughter of a saddler,

and Sir Henry's sister-in-law,

fit only to be married off
for whatever reasons suit my uncle.

I ran off when I heard I was to marry Girdwood,
but Sir Henry fetched me back.

- You're frightened of Sir Henry?
- Yes, but I do want to help you.

Could you find the ledgers?

I want to, but it's hard.

- It would help me disgrace Girdwood.
- I know.

I should take the risk,
but I shall be punished.

By who?

My uncle beats me.

He let Girdwood watch the last time.

He thought the colonel should know
how to treat a wife. He uses a cane.

There are marks on his study wall where
he thrashes and the cane scratches the plaster.

He gets very angry.

How dare he treat you so?

Yes, I fear it is my lot.

It need not be.

- Jane...
- Sir Henry hates you.

I think he also envies you.

Why?

You are a hero, Major Sharpe.
Everybody says so.

That's foolishness.

Oh, no, it is not.

I will try to get the books.

It is important you have them?

Yes.

It will help.

But I swear, Miss Gibbons,

Girdwood is done for.

It is shaming, but I shall need money.

It is rare I'm allowed to have any.

Here.

Please, no shame.

Get me the books. Bring them to me
on the night of Saturday and we shall prevail.

You'll bear no blame. I won't see you punished.
You will not be brought back.

I have money, rank.

I'm not very good at running away.

Then I shall protect you.

I will marry you.

I'm sorry.

No.

No.

I must go.

Jane.

Jane!

You cannot take that!

(Drums)

Can I trust you, Smith?

Yes. I was always uneasy.

Always, sir,
but I've been purchased over several times.

I obtained a captaincy I could not have bought.

I know what that means, Smith.

Bundook, one. Bayonet, one.
Cartridge box, one.

Make your mark, sign your name.
It's all the same to me. Next!

Bundook, one. Bayonet, one.
Cartridge box, one.

Make your mark, sign your name. Next!

Breeches, pair, one.

- Shako, one.
- Tunic, one.

- Tunic, one.
- Shako, one.

(Drumming)

SHARPE: They get better at it, Patrick.

♪ Now I said the young man
have oft endured the parish queues

♪ No more charity for the likes of me

♪ Salvation and danger

♪ They shall be my destiny

♪ I'll take the king's shilling
for Wellington and me

♪ Take the king's shilling

♪ Take the king's shilling

♪ Take the king's shilling for Wellington and me

♪ Salvation and danger

♪ They shall be my destiny

♪ I'll take the king's shilling
for Wellington and me

HARPER: Company...halt!

Fall...out!

Buy me some, Phillip.

As many as we need.

What for, sir?

To eat, Mr Carline.

Save the feathers.

A feather bed for the Prince of Wales.

It's his badge, is it not?

Now, get them pickets out.

Sir.

Sergeant, get those pickets out!

(Bell tolls)

Present and correct and ready to march, sir.

Thank you, Sergeant Major.

Company formed up and ready to march, sir.

Stand them at ease, Mr Carline.

Company, stand at ease!

Over there's London.

That's where we've been marching to.

I thought we was going to Plymouth, sir.

Not Plymouth.

Not yet.

Why? I'll tell you later.

For now, we're marching into London,
so sport some swank.

Uncase the Colours.

We're going to meet the Prince of Wales.

- My footman has the books.
- Then give them my footman.

I have more to lose than you, sir.

Take these to my house.
Tell the steward to burn them.

Every page. Do you understand?

- And where in God's name is Sharpe?
- Chatham or Portsmouth, I shouldn't wonder.

We've looked there.

Besides, he cannot sail without orders.
He must know that, unless he's mad.

He is mad. He is also insolent.

I recommended his dismissal in Spain,
but my voice was not heeded.

Well, I trust you will enjoy the battle, Sir Henry.

WOMAN: He's so fat!

Fenner, evening.

- Not so hot here as it was at Vitoria, eh?
- Indeed, Your Royal Highness.

Up we go, then.

WOMAN: He's about to burst, he's so huge.

Which is this, Fenner?

12th Light Dragoons, sir. Prince of Wales's Own.

One of mine, Freddy. Look, my feathers!
How many have I got?

- Got?
- Got, got. You must have seen a list.

What else do you do but see lists,
Secretary at War? Lists!

I think six, sir. Dragoons and Foot.

And how many's York got?

One, sir. Irish, 101 st.

Do you hear that? You've only one, Freddy.

I've got the whole deuced army, d'you see?

(Clapping)

Evening, Lord John.

- Prinny wants to see our Eagle.
- You will...bring it back, sir?

I did the last time.

- She was in my house?
- With her dog!

- Well, what did she want?
- The ledgers.

She'd come for the ledgers.

She said that you had sent her.

Don't be a damned fool, man.

This is Sharpe's doing.

Sir.

You've come.

He's got the ledgers. My uncle's got the ledgers.

It doesn't matter. You've took the risk to help me.

- But your evidence!
- I've got the men. They'll be evidence enough.

Colonel Girdwood was at the house.
He saw me. He'll tell my uncle.

Listen, you mustn't be afraid.

What do I do now? I can't go back.

Look, you meet me here after the battle.

All right?

(Dog whimpers)

Bravo! Bravo!

MAN: It's Boney!
- (Booing and hissing)

Very good.

(Hissing and booing)

CROWD: Oooh!

Aah!

MAN: Shame, sir!

(Gasps)

SHARPE: Company...shun!

Put arms!

Forward march!

Company, halt!

Make ready!

Present!

Fire!

Why, it's Major Sharpe.

It's Dick.

Sergeant Major, now!

Ground arms!

Prince of Wales's feathers! Prince of Wales!

Three cheers for the Prince of Wales.

Hip, hip...

Huzzah!

Hip, hip...

Huzzah!

- Hip, hip...
- Huzzah!

They're mine.

- What regiment is that?
- South Essex.

Ah. I thought they only marched on paper.

Sir?

These are fellows you told me
only marched on paper.

No, sir, these are the men
who fought with you at Talavera, sir.

The 1 st Battalion, back with the Eagle you took.

Of course. I thought I recognised them.

Well, they're mine now, ain't they?

Bravo, Dick!

FENNER: Ordered back to Spain,

he didn't see fit to go.

Not without men.

I came for men.

He disguised a battalion
as a holding battalion, sir,

auctioned the men for his own profit,
and stole their pay.

He is Secretary at War.

He is a thief.

Every word.

We'll do this properly.

What is your proof of this, Sharpe?

Hmm?

You can substantiate these accusations, surely?

I know what you are.

I know what Sir Henry is.
I have seen for myself, sir.

But you have no proof, Sharpe.

So take heed of this.

The South Essex, or rather
the Prince of Wales's Own Volunteers...

- (Sniggers)
- ..as we must now call them,

will embark for Spain under the command
of Lieutenant Colonel Girdwood.

You, Major Sharpe, will embark for Australia,

where you'll command a convict guard.

Far too lenient. I would break the ingrate.

They don't hardly ever dress
at the Antipodes, Sharpe.

You'll be at home.

How many times have I said it?
You get dross from dross.

Comes of plucking up from the ranks.
Never sit easy, do they?

I sit like I was poured, sir.

Hmmm.

You will not, though invited,
attend on the Prince of Wales tonight.

He's had far too much excitement for one day.

Your orders are being written as we speak.

Until they arrive,
you will wait in the guardroom under arrest.

(Knock at door)

Come.

- You have the orders?
- Er, not yet, my lord. Your wife is here.

I have no wife.

You'll forgive me, Simon.

Please, don't get up, Sir Henry.

(Snorts)

We are not acquainted, General.

Nor we are, ma'am.

My loss.

Do please present me, Simon.

My dear Anne,
I am engaged on the business of State.

Introduce me.

General Sir Barstan Maxwell, I have the honour

of naming the Dowager Countess Camoynes.

Honoured, ma'am.

Now, I will be obliged if you will wait outside.

Major Sharpe.

You are most remiss.

Remiss, ma'am?

You promised me this.

But I had to find it myself.

Your steward wanted to know
what he was to burn.

And he was still reading this when I arrived.
I have the other one quite safe,

rescued from the flames as well.

It contains letters signed by you, Simon.

Get out.

Give me those notes.

Get out.

And you.

Out!

My lord, I insist this is done properly.

ANNE: It is being done properly, Sir Barstan.

Were it done any other way, my dear General,

there is likely to be the most horrid scandal.

Is that not true, Simon?

Major Sharpe, perhaps you have
some few requests to make of Lord Fenner?

Requests, ma'am?

I assume you want a favour.

My own will wait.

I only want what Wellington wants -

men to take into battle against the French.

I want the Prince of Wales's Own Volunteers
to come with me to Spain.

Agreed.

I want all my men to get the pay they're owed.

I want the 2nd Battalion
properly established at Chelmsford.

New officers, decent officers this time.

I want command given to Colonel Girdwood.

You'll serve under him?

I will, sir.

I don't wish him to resign his commission
before we set sail.

Very well.

You've finished, Major?

Indeed, ma'am.

- Simon, I have two for sale.
- That ain't all you have for sale.

Nor it isn't,

but the price I would expect from you would have
your shirt off your back long before bedtime.

You can't afford her, Simmerson.

Few can.

Sharpe?

You told the truth?

The truth, Sir Barstan,
is whatever Lord Fenner and I decide.

And, for him, it is going to strike
devilish expensive.

Where do you go now?

I...have a carriage, and I'm feeling generous.

I have unfinished business, my lady.

Walk on.

Whoa!

Whoa!

You er...want me, Major Sharpe?

Not yet. For the moment,
I've come for Miss Gibbons.

Sir Henry said she'd be flogged
till her bones were chalk.

Not so.

Have you thought about what I said?

I have.

I don't know you. I...

- No.
ANNE: Major Sharpe.

Will you not present
your companion to me, Major?

I have the honour to present
the Dowager Countess Camoynes.

- Miss Jane Gibbons, ma'am.
- We are to be married.

Jane.

Ma'am.

Miss Gibbons will not take it amiss, I know,

if I give you this, ma'am.

It was won in battle.

My thanks, ma'am.

Major Sharpe.

Major Sharpe,

you are too far up.

You will kindly retire two paces.

Prince of Wales's Own Volunteers,

on my command,

two paces forward, march.

That do you, sir?

Beyond the mountains lies France, Sharpe.
You will attack behind the battalions.

You'll finish the job, yes?

- Then, on into France.
- Sir.

Not being a little hard on Girdwood, are you?

At Foulness, sir, Colonel Girdwood gave orders
that deserters were to be shot out of hand.

I saw one killed.

He hunted men through the marshland
like they were rats.

He wants to see a battle,

he'll see a battle.

Pay heed.

I want no glory hunt.

You'll be diligent how you listen for orders.

You can't go wrong if you go forward.

Attack. Attack all the time.

Never slack.

There is the enemy.

Face him, front him and kill him.

It needs to be fast work,

for if we're slow, he'll come on us.

So keep going forward.

They have leave to fire on sight,
so get them bayonets in, make it sticking work.

Frenchy's a sight more frit than us.

- They must be quaking in terror.
- They are, Charlie.

They know they face us.

Move forward!

Steady, lads. Steady!

Keep going! Forward!

Set on, lad. Get a move on.

Intend we shall, chum.

God save ye.

Don't roam on the rush, sir.
You wouldn't want to miss your first battle.

- Say it, Lynch.
- God save Ireland.

- Say it!
- God save Ireland!

Come on, you buggers! Let 'em hear you!

(Battle cries)

Get his pack, Charlie.
It's what you stopped him for.

Filth!

Follow me, lads.

♪ We're fighting for our flag

♪ Hurrah, my boys

♪ Hurrah

What regiment?

Sharpe's.

Sharpe's regiment.

What are you loitering for?

It's there. Just there.

It's France.

France!

(Cheering)