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HAGMAN: I'm a poor loom weaver
As many a man knows
I've nowt to eat
and I've wore out my clothes
My gloves they're all broken
and stockings I've none
and thy'd scarce give me tuppence
For all I've got on
Our parish church parson kept telling me long
We'd have better times if I'd but hold my tongue
But I've holden my tongue
Till I can hardly draw breath
and I think in my heart they mean to starve us to death
Find the end and get it pieced up.
- What are you doing to him? - Get back to your bloody loom, West.
- You leave that lad alone. - Plenty others want your job, lad.
The war's over. Boney's beat.
It's victory, my friends.
What difference will it make to the likes of you?
CROWD: Nothing. Nothing.
The difference
is thousands of bastard soldiers.
CROWD: Aye. - All crawling the country,
all as poor and desperate as you.
CROWD: Aye. - Fighting you for jobs.
ALL: Aye. - Jobs in these stinking mills.
Jobs that won't pay you enough to put clothes on your backs
and food in your children's mouths.
That's victory, friends!
MAN: Aye, some kind of victory!
(Clears throat)
Sharpe. Major Richard.
Prince of Wales� Own.
Your orders.
- What do you mean, Yorkshire? - Yorkshire.
Yorkshire. Whither you are to go to command the Scarsdale Yeomanry.
But I�ve got business here.
- Your business must wait. - It can't!
You go to Yorkshire,
or you go to Tasmania, in command of a convict ship,
which is where you would have gone had not your friends put in a word for you.
My friends?! What friends?
Bad news?
I'm sent to bloody Yorkshire to command some bloody yeomanry.
Yorkshire? That's nice. It'll be a homecoming.
I�ve done without Yorkshire for 20 years. I don't want it now.
- Don't think you're coming. You're going home. - Maybe I should see you settled.
I'm not getting settled.
I'll stay as long as I must and come back
to find my money and my wife and the bastard that stole them.
But you, Pat, you're going home.
Of course I am. Sure. Who's there to fight in Yorkshire?
Englishmen, I suppose.
Oh. Not all bad news, then?
But no-one visits us, John. We are left quite alone.
It will take time.
Society moves precious slow
and you're new to town.
But you are not new, John.
You could do more to introduce me.
- Are you ashamed of me? - Hush, my dear.
Lady Anne. Good morning.
Good morning, sir.
- Mrs. Sharpe. - I do not know your companion, Anne.
Count von Selznick. Lord Rossendale.
The Count has expressed a desire to meet your husband, Mrs. Sharpe.
He too is a veteran of Spain.
Will we find Major Sharpe at home?
Sadly, Major Sharpe has been posted to the North.
But you and the Count are welcome to call at any time, Lady Anne.
Of course.
Good day... John.
Anne.
Maybe we should just surrender.
YEOMAN: Major Sharpe?
- Yes. - Welcome to Yorkshire.
Captain George Wickham at your service.
At yours, sir.
- That was pretty horsemanship. - Scarsdale Yeomanry trains hard.
- You must be Sergeant Major Harper. - I am he, sir.
We would be honored to escort you the last few miles, gentlemen.
Keighley is about 20 minutes off.
You can bathe, put on your best, for dinner with Sir Willoughby.
We're wearing our best.
It's no matter, I'm sure.
How did you know we were coming, sir?
Scouts, Mr. Harper. A prerequisite of any effective force.
Wouldn't you say, Major Sharpe?
Would they be the same scouts that have been following us for the past two miles?
- What? - How many?
- Two on either side of us and one ahead. - What are you talking about?
Musket. The broken oak tree branch at 60 yards.
Got him.
Take the right, Pat!
(Horse whinnies)
No luck. The woods are too damn thick.
I take it he isn't one of your scouts, Wickham.
They were brigands.
Highwaymen. The country's full of them.
So, you see, your time in Yorkshire will not all be spent
- hunting and fishing. Major Sharpe. - Is that right?
They're not very successful highwaymen.
- To judge by the hook of this one. - Whatever.
'Tis one less to hang.
We should continue. Sir Willoughby does not like to be kept waiting.
WICKHAM: Sir Willoughby.
- May I introduce� - I know who it is!
Sharpe! The worst-dressed bugger in England.
That's what they told me. And I thank them for it.
What's the point of having a fancy uniform if you haven't got a man inside it, eh, Wickham?
- What indeed, Sir Willoughby? - What indeed, Sir Willoughby.
How do you manage to be so damn polite and so damn rude at the same time?
It must be all that blue blood, eh, Sharpe?
Indeed, Sir Willoughby.
Ah. Touch�, Sharpe.
Touch�.
I heard you had a skirmish already. Right, Wickham?
If it wasn't for Major Sharpe, I doubt I would be here, Sir Willoughby.
Mixed blessing, eh, Sharpe?
Mixed blessing.
No offence, George.
No offence.
Nice to have a real soldier with us at last, eh?
Put the fear of God into that thieving scum.
Welcome to my humble home, Sharpe.
I built it myself and I�ve regretted it ever since.
It cost a fortune to build
and it costs even more to heat!
The war spoiled them.
Wages went up and up.
They grew fat and idle.
A question of demand, you see?
Uniforms for you soldier boys, et cetera.
Now we're all struggling to keep our heads above water.
But instead of buckling down, they're fighting us.
Have you heard of the machine-breakers?
I have not.
Machine-breakers. Mill-burners.
They believe the machines will destroy their livelihoods. So, they destroy the machines.
Lord Stanwyck has already suffered several attacks.
They'll not drive me under yet. I'll outsmart 'em.
I�ve got a steam engine
coming from Bolton.
It does the work of 60 horses.
It'll give you a bit of competition, eh, Parfitt?
I welcome competition, Percy, I welcome it. Machines mean progress.
They mean we can make cheaper cotton.
Produce more. Export more.
Wealth through progress.
Not through burning my mills and Sir Percy's.
Keep the mills safe, Sharpe.
Keep Sir Percy in business.
- Now. That's your job. WICKHAM: And when we can.
Teach the scum a lesson to remember.
SIR PERCY: By your accent.
You're a local man, Sharpe.
I am, sir.
Where from, man? Keighley? Skipton?
- Where? - I don't clearly know, sir. I'm an orphan.
Don't apologize for it, Richard.
- I don't. - I'm glad to hear so. Son.
Hardly your doing, was it?
I might have been one myself.
Oh, Lord! Not this again, Willoughby.
I speak as I find, Percy.
Them streets raised me, Richard. Not any parents.
Age of eight I was selling scrap from a barrow.
Age of 14. I had 12 barrows.
And I was paying my mother a respectable wage to push one for herself.
Look at me now.
Rattling around in this draughty old pile, like a pea in a piss pot.
And look at yourself, Richard.
Orphan boy. Became a Major.
And took the Froggy eagle at Vitoria.
- Now, that is what I call progress. WICKHAM: Talavera.
Major Sharpe took the eagle at Talavera.
PARFITT: Talavera, then.
Foreign doings. It's all one to me.
It's not all one to me, Parfitt.
I lost a son at Talavera.
Died of wounds received.
Both legs shot off.
He wrote to me after the battle.
He didn't talk about himself.
He talked about Sharpe.
Apple of my eye.
To you, Sharpe.
Thank you, sir.
I will try hearts.
A suit you have become expert in, John.
How is Mrs. Sharpe, by the way?
She is well.
Major Sharpe will be happy to hear you take good care of her.
I see Sharpe still intrigues you, Anne.
I'm always intrigued by what he will do.
I have seen how implacable he is in achieving his ends,
whatever they may be.
What does Sharpe do in the North?
I have heard he commands a yeomanry.
The Scarsdale Yeomanry. Raised by Willoughby Parfitt.
Parfitt?! The barrow boy?!
He has his own yeomanry? Isn�t that the height of pretension?
He proposed to me once, you know? Regretfully, I could not accept.
Just think...
If I had, I could have raised my own yeomanry and got you to command it!
You would have looked so much better than Sharpe, don't you think... Johnny?
I...
Spades.
I will try spades.
So, how do you find Yorkshire, Pat?
Well, they do have an awful way of massacring the English language.
(Sharpe laughs)
PARFITT: What do you think of him?
Rides like a peasant.
Dresses like a peasant.
Eats like a peasant.
Fights like the devil.
He's a match for you, then, is he?
He's rough.
But rough's what's needed.
He can be cock on his own dung heap.
Fiddler plays nearby
(Public house falls silent)
- Ben Anold? - Aye.
I'm Sergeant Major Harper. This is Major Sharpe.
Formerly of the Prince of Wales' Own Volunteers, now with the Scarsdale Yeomanry.
We have the honor of being billeted with you.
Ain't I lucky? Who pays for your bed?
King George of England.
The mad one? Or the fat one?
Whichever one takes your fancy.
Neither does.
And neither do you.
Bed, board and beer.
And a bit of respect,
you piece of English arse.
MAN: What's going on?
(Laughter)
So, this is the place you were bon in, then?
Conceived, maybe.
Nice. Maybe they'll put up a statue to you.
Yeah...
Dick Sharpe. Bastard.
I don't think so.
I'm off for a breath of fresh air, Pat.
Yeah. Well. I'm going to stay here and make sure no harm comes to this young lady.
Oh. That's very gentlemanly of you, Pat.
Miss.
Why don't you sit down?
(Dogs bark in the distance)
Matt Truman.
Hello, Dick.
Friends, eh?
I wouldn't, if I were you.
Let go.
Good evening, Major.
Good evening, Dan.
Have I to blow a lump off him for you?
No.
- What are you doing here, Daniel? - I followed you from t'King's Head.
- No. I mean, what are you doing in Yorkshire? - Looking for work.
Like t'rest of Wellington's army.
But there in't none.
Then I heard as you were up 'ere.
Aye. Riding round with fat gentlemen, murdering the poor.
Meet Matthew Truman, Dan.
My childhood friend.
Maybe fate threw us together,
but you were no friend of mine.
You were some troublesome runt then,
same as you are now
This is where I grew up, Dan.
Where Matthew Truman taught me how to fight.
Aye. My mistake.
Otherwise, you might have died there.
Then you wouldn't be taking Judas silver from the rich
in order to keep down the people you came from.
Do you want work, Dan?
- I'll find you a place with the yeomanry. - No, sir.
Nine years I fought.
King and country. For what, eh?
I'm done with bloody uniforms.
As you will.
Go on. Bugger off.
- You think this makes us even? - No.
You killed my horse, you bastard. And I still owe you for that.
Here... raggedy man.
You want honest work?
Come with me.
Well, go on. You're not in the bloody army now.
Go back to London, Dick Sharpe.
Back to your lords and ladies.
You'll cause nowt but grief here.
For yourself and for others.
Go back.
(Knock at door) - Come.
- A letter for you, sir. - A bill. You mean?
Put it over there.
Jane...
There's plenty of cottages on the estate, Richard.
Why don't you get out of that fleapit and move into one?
- Do you not have people living in them, sir? - Oh, idle beggars, all of them.
I can turf them out. You earn your keep, Richard.
And bring your wife down from London, get some of this Yorkshire air in her lungs.
I don't think she would...
Not used to the soldier's life, eh?
Bond Street and ball gowns, eh?
Well, I'm having one here, so you can invite her to that.
A ball. A celebration of peace.
Glorious victories, foreign doings, et cetera.
You've got to show you're doing the gracious thing.
You've got to show you're part of the club.
- Club? - Yeah. Gentlefolk. Old money.
Sir Percy Stanwyck and his lot.
Can't even piss straight without having a servant hold it for them.
And don't think they don't want to see me back down in the gutter. Oh, they do.
The only thing that keeps me up is my money.
And the fact that I'm better than all of them. The same as you, Richard.
You've shot up beyond your station, haven't you?
What do you know of Matthew Truman, sir?
What do you know of him?
I heard his name in town, that's all.
Probably because he's got �1,000 on his head.
Do you fancy �1,000, Richard?
Catch the bugger.
What's he done?
What's he not done? He's the worst rabble-rouser and machine-breaker in the area.
He can shut a mill down just by appearing in town.
That's the only thing Sir Percy and I agree on.
The best place for him is on the gallows.
You put him there, I'll double that �1,000, Richard.
This is Saunders. He manages my mills.
He's my eyes and ears in Keighley.
Well, spit it out, man.
A meeting going on in Adcock's ban, sir.
That'll be Truman. Filling their ears with poison. Where's Wickham?
He sends his compliments. He's already on his way.
Grand.
Maybe George'll beat you to that �1,000, Richard.
TRUMAN: Are you hungry, still?
CROWD: Aye!
TRUMAN: Are your children crying in the night?
MAN: We're all bloody crying. Look at us!
TRUMAN: Let me tell you a story to quiet them.
It's the story of a bill.
CROWD MEMBERS: Oh, yeah?
A bill from the Prince of Wales, presented to Parliament.
WOMAN: Oh. Not him. - "What sort of a bill is it?" you ask.
One to ease the suffering of his people?
(Laughter)
To show he knows and cares?
WOMAN: The old bugger.
No.
It's a wine bill.
CROWD: For wine?!
A bill for one year's supply of wine.
(Bird call)
"How much is this bill?" you ask.
Well, I�ll tell you.
It's �2,000.
(Scandalized cries)
�2,000.
Now, tell me...
you, who must feed yourselves and your families on eight shillings a week...
CROWD MEMBERS: Aye!
How many years' labor would it take to pay this bill?
How many?
100 years from now, you would still be working and it would still not be paid.
(Bird call)
And so the greed of the few
- adds to the weight of the misery of the many. - (Bird call)
- And so it will go on... MAN: The yeomanry's coming!
...until we find one voice
- and stand together... WOMAN: Get out of here!
(Bird call)
500 acres.
Is that as big as Kent?
No sweetness.
But it is big enough.
Bless Aunt Tabitha.
And now we are rich.
No we can pay off Richard.
Yes.
I suppose we can borrow against�
Yes...
The lawyers advise I travel up at once to inspect the property.
Then I will come with you.
My love, the journey will be long and arduous.
Arduous?
John, unlike you, I have followed the English army half across Europe.
I am sorry. I don't doubt you are a hardier traveler than I.
But I fear the property may be somewhat neglected and...
we will not be far from where Sharpe is posted.
I thought he was in Yorkshire.
Lancashire and Yorkshire are contiguous, my dear.
Contiguous...
And I thought we were rid of him.
(Sighs) Yes.
But...
behind every silver lining, there's a cloud, my love.
Richard would never have thought of that.
Nevertheless...
I am coming with you.
(Bell rings)
- Is this where you? - Yes.
A fire, alas.
A year after taking over this post, sir.
It's sadly likely that the means of tracing your mother were destroyed in it.
- (Scream) - Oi, pack it in. Now.
Sing a song of sixpence
A pocket full of...
I was thinking, sir,
even if we are unsuccessful at locating the records,
I was wondering if you might spare the time for an address.
- An address for the children, sir. - What?
From an old boy, as it were.
One who's made his way in the world. Who's achieved success.
Even renown. Dare I say.
I think that'd be grand.
You say a few inspiring words to the poor little bastards
and have them all follow in your footsteps.
Every one a hero.
And have one half of them poxed and fever-ridden...
- and the other half dead before they're 20. - (Bell tolls)
It's the best die first...
The ones who stand up bravest.
I came to look at your records, not make speeches.
(Children play noisily)
I'm sorry.
Richard...
Richard!
'Tis you, in't it?
You remember me, don't you? Sally. Sally Bunting.
I used to work in t'kitchen. I used to bring you food, sew your clothes.
You ran away and I stayed here.
I knew you'd come back, Richard. I just wish it'd been sooner.
Sal?
Bunty?
Bunty, aye. That's what you used to call me. You and Matthew.
Do you still see Matthew?
Aye, I hear of him. What he does for the people here. They think he's a hero.
What do you think?
I think he's a hero, too. You should meet him, Richard.
You could be friends again.
We'll never be friends. If I meet him, it'll be to arrest him.
Oh, Richard.
(Harper clears throat)
I'm sorry, Sal.
This is my friend, Sergeant Major Harper.
- Pat, Miss Sally Bunting. - Pleased to meet you, ma'am.
(Sighs) Oh, Sharpe and Sergeant Harper.
Mr. Whitbread used to read from t'papers about you.
Vitoria, Talavera,
Badajoz. Sahamanca.
I didn't know we made the papers.
Well, you'd have to read for that, Pat.
You see, he's a cruel, mocking man, Miss Bunting.
And me after carrying him safe and sound through all the blood and slaughter.
So, you're still here.
Aye. I'm matron now.
Why did you come back, Richard?
To find out who put me here.
Oh, the fire, it...
There might be some other ways.
I could try to find out for you.
It'd be no trouble, Richard.
Thank you, Sally.
You know, he doesn't deserve either of us, miss.
Come on, you lot.
Go on. Move yourself.
And you, little bugger, move it.
I�ve taken your lady some rum punch, sir.
- What lady? - She was fatigued after the long journey.
I offered her the best parlor, but she desired your quarters, sir.
Please call if you need anything more, sir.
Major Sharpe.
My Lady
Are you surprised to see me?
I am.
And... pleased, I trust?
Why are you here, ma'am?
This room, Richard...
Not the most... commodious.
Why are you here, my lady?
I am concerned for you. Why else?
Why are you concerned for me?
Well, for one, your wife is being tupped by another man.
I know about Rossendale.
He was your friend, I thought.
He was
You have not come this far only to tell me this.
Perhaps...
I came only to see you.
I do not believe so.
My Lady could have anyone she chose.
My lady chose once and the man she chose was looking elsewhere.
Do you know why you are here?
It was orders. Why else should I be?
- It was Rossendale. - Rossendale?
Why should?
To get me out of London?
So he can enjoy my money and my wife in peace.
Richard...
Forget about it now.
I'm sorry.
Have you fallen for another... servant girl, Major Sharpe?
- There is another woman. - What is her name?
Lucille.
Lucille Maillot.
She has a farm in Normandy.
- Her brother was killed, so... - By you?
- Because of me. - So... you took the farm and you took her.
How chivalrous.
A French girl?
That would go down well at Horse Guards.
The war is over, ma'am.
And you are faithful to Lucille.
How touching.
Lady Anne...
First of all, John, you must get the drive seen to.
Yes. And I will have some ash planted. And some oaks.
Yes.
So much more elegant.
As I suspected, there is much to be done.
And that is why we are here.
You're early. I didn't expect you!
Who's this woman?
This room could be pretty enough. It looks south, does it not?
It looks north.
Well... north, then.
It could still be pretty.
How far is Lord Parfitt's house?
Hour's ride.
Not far.
But we cannot go there, because that is where Richard is.
I don't think...
I don't think we will pay Richard off with this, John.
Let us not be hasty, Jane. There may be ways.
And until then...
wherever Richard is we cannot show our faces.
And we must run scared from him all our hives.
Is that right?
I will ask Mrs. Trent to light some candles.
(Murmur of conversation)
Look what the cat's dragged in.
Excuse me. Richard!
Richard, lad.
Look happy, man. It's not a damn funeral.
Someone's been asking after you.
Sharpe...
Lady Anne.
Ah. Major Sharpe.
My Lady
Captain Wickham tells me you've come to teach his men the art of war.
No, I'm... just here, really.
I hope you can make better use of your time than that.
Perhaps you should ask Captain Wickham to teach you some of the arts of peace.
Conversation, for example.
Major Sharpe...
I have more news for you.
- What is it, ma'am? - Don't you dance, Major Sharpe?
No. What is your news?
You should learn. I'm sure...
What's her name? Lucille likes to dance now and then, don't you think?
Please. Tell me.
Rossendale is here.
Oh, not here.
Nearby. Parfitt says he's been left an estate.
- Is he there now? - Yes.
And his mistress.
Mrs. Sharpe.
As was.
Jane?
Ma'am? Where is this?
PARFITT: Well done, John.
Pretty stuff, Parfitt!
I'll wager he'd not try it against a soldier.
Wouldn't he, Percy?
By George, Wickham will see any man off.
Even Major Sharpe?
PARFITT: Aye. Even Sharpe.
Why not?
Richard!
Where are you?
Sir, I am not one for...
You ain't afraid of young George, are you, Richard?
- No, sir. - Then come on, man.
Teach the young sprig a lesson.
He's a fine swordsman. He needs no lessons from me, sir.
Then you are afraid, sir.
In my hands, a sword isn't pretty, ma'am. It kills.
We're not asking you to kill anyone, sir.
Oh, try me, Major Sharpe.
You wouldn't even get a touch.
MAN: Come on. Why not?
Very well.
MAN: Oh, splendid.
(Crowd murmurs)
Touch�.
(Scattered applause)
MAN: Oh, well done, sir. - Well done.
Very well done.
- Ought to be congratulated. - Where were you at Talavera, sir?
Dancing.
Dancing and flickering. That's where.
Very fine, sir. Very fine.
Silly old fart.
Did you have a good evening?
Rossendale.
He has an estate around here.
- Find it. - Do you think that's a good idea?
I said, find it.
(Door latch)
- Ooh! - Sally.
Richard, you should not stay in a place like this.
Nor you, Patrick.
It is godless. Full of foul drink.
- And blasphemy. - Get off, you filthy bastard.
Jenny, please.
I have tried several times to leave, but Major Sharpe insists on buying more drink.
Then shame on you, Richard.
I know that Widow Bevan has lodgings. You must move there. Both of you.
Sally, did you come to tell me something?
5th April. 1812.
The forlorn hope went through the breach at Badajoz.
We walked on nothing but the dead.
They were so thick on the ground.
Did Mr. Whitbread read you that, Sally?
Rossendale
My dear fellow, I thought you'd never come! Welcome, sir.
Willoughby. Came as soon as I could. The new estate, you know?
Oh, yes. George, meet George.
George Wickham. Bossed my yeomanry for me till your fellow came up.
- Sharpe, you mean? - That's him.
Not quite the fighter you made him out to be. George got the better of him last night.
- Ran him ragged. - You fought Sharpe?
And you beat him?
Easy, sir. Brain, not brawn.
Stop bragging. George. It ain't attractive.
Come in, Rossendale. Tell me all about this estate you charmed out of your Aunt Tabby.
The house has been somewhat neglected.
But it has a pleasant aspect and the rooms are... comfortable.
Houses are easy. If you don't like 'em, you knock 'em down.
How about the land? You've got plenty of farms paying you rent, I hope.
In fact, no. No, much of the land is rough moor.
But it has promise.
Particularly for the sort of industry I see around here.
Industry? Is that what you want?
I'm surprised a young gentleman like yourself would want to dirty his hands in industry.
Others have, Willoughby. Why shouldn't I?
Mills don't grow on trees, you know? They get built.
They get built by hard cash and hard work.
I believe the land gives me more than adequate collateral, sir.
See all this, Lord Rossendale?
My library. Latin...
Greek... Homer.
Tacitus. The lot.
You think I built this up book by book?
Ex libris Willoughby Parfitt.
Did I hell!
I bought it off a broke baronet.
The same with my mills.
My first mill took five years to build and 10 years to make a profit.
I thought. "I'll be supping with worms before I get rich."
So, I went out and I bought other people's mills.
Aye. And I bought them even if they didn't want to sell.
Then why did they? Sell.
(Chuckles) There are ways.
And once I�ve got them, I run them better.
Harder. I make the workers work. If they grumble, there's George here.
Or your man Sharpe
to keep things in order.
Would you like a slice of that pie, Lord Rossendale?
I'm happy to be part of any enterprise that shows a quick profit.
In need of cash, eh?
- That's the trouble with London. - I need cash to pay Sharpe off.
Pay him off? What for?
He abused his wife.
Neglected and beat her.
She could stand no more and she ran away. I took pity on her.
Pity, eh?
Yes. Pity.
He threatened her and me, pretending an affection for her he's never shown.
He demanded money for his silence.
I obtained him this commission, yet he still wants more.
Glad to be of service, Rossendale.
How much cash does Sharpe want?
�10,000.
- This Mrs. Sharpe must be quite something. - She is.
PARFITT: So...
you sent Sharpe to me to get rid of him.
But your Aunt Tabby goes and dies nearby.
That's damned inconvenient, isn't it?
The coincidence had not struck me, sir.
Of course it hadn't. Of course it hadn't.
Well, John,
Mrs. Sharpe...
What is she like, eh?
WORKER: 'Ey up. Green-jacketed bastards.
Hm. It seems they like us.
Anyway, this lot don't look as if they need keeping in order.
They look as if they need a meal or a bath. I don't know why we're bothering.
- I didn't ask you to come. - Yeah, but I was...
So, if you don't like it, go.
There's nothing keeping you.
I need the pay, so I'm staying, all right?
The war's ended, lads.
God save the King,
et cetera.
Now, we'd hoped, with the war done, Europe would open up for our goods.
We'd hoped that the ladies of Paris would be swanning around in fancy smocks
woven by the workers of Keighley.
But it hasn't worked out that way.
For there ain't no money in Paris.
Nor in Madrid.
Nor in Berlin.
Nor in any other damn place.
- Maybe Major Sharpe here took all their money. WOMAN: I wouldn't be surprised.
Maybe we should ask him. Eh?
Anyway, the thick and the thin of it is
that times are hard.
Choices are hard.
And the choice I�ve had to make is this...
Shall I lay folks off?
ALL: No! - Or should I cut wages?
ALL: No!
Well, it seems better to me
that all should have less
than some should have none.
So, that's what I�ve chosen.
Weekly wage cut from eight shillings to seven shillings a week.
- No! You can't do that! - It comes hard. I know.
But that is the way things are.
I can't hardly support my family on eight shillings. How can I do it on seven?
ALL: Aye! Aye!
MAN: We're all in the same boat.
I'm sorry, Sam West, but we've just got to draw our belts tight, that's all.
- I don't see your belt getting tight. ALL: Aye.
The last thing is this...
I�ve heard tell of meetings in town.
Meetings addressed by a wanted man.
A traitor. A trouble-stirrer.
Matthew Truman.
These meetings are unlawful! MAN: If we had decent wages...
If there are any more, Major Sharpe and his men will break them up
and arrest all those attending.
No!
(Angry jeers)
(Door latch)
Well, where is it? Rossendale's estate, man.
I don't think you should get involved.
I don't care. Where is it?
Welling Park. It's seven miles from here.
And I think you're mad!
There's a man at the door. I am not in. Do you understand?
- What man? I don't hear no man. - There is no-one at home. Send him away.
(Banging on door)
There's no-one at home.
(Footsteps above)
(Key turns in lock)
(Door rattles)
Open the door.
Open the door, or I'll break it down.
- Where is he? - He's not here.
Tell me where he is.
He's out hunting. I swear it, Richard.
Richard, don't.
I'm not going to hurt you.
I'm going to hurt him.
What are you doing here, Jane?
- I came up with John. - Why?
To see Welling Park, that's all.
How do you find being a lady, Jane?
I thought my money would have bought better than this.
This is John's. It was bequeathed to him. He has no money.
He has my money. My wife he can keep, my money I want back.
It is gone.
Much of it is gone.
Then he must get it back.
He can sell this rat hole for a start.
Why, Jane?
Why did you do it?
I thought you...
I thought...
You broke your promise.
You promised you would not fight again. You fought a duel.
Then you left me on my own.
I did not leave you.
I came back from battle and you were gone.
You went to London. You took a peacock for a lover.
- You emptied my bank accounts. - You broke your promise.
That promise was foolish and I am sorry for breaking it,
but it does not balance up what you did to me.
Jane...
I thought you loved me.
And if I tell you I did...
...would that make everything better?
Would you have me back again?
Rossendales whore.
Would you?
Tell him I was here.
Tell him I will be back.
Goodbye, Jane.
Sir!
There's a crowd gathering in town. Truman's with them.
"Times are hard," he says.
(Murmurs of assent)
"It's a wage cut," he says.
(More murmurs)
Did he say he was cutting his wages?
No. Of course not.
His wage stays the same.
His pocket stays full.
His stomach stays full.
Aye. And big enough.
They say...
They say it's because the war is over that times are hard.
Yeah, well, ask yourselves, when were they ever easy?
He's in the square, sir.
Well, sir?
Come with me.
So, why did we even fight this war?
MAN: The French, weren't it?
Who was our enemy?
MAN: The French. - The people of France?
What wrong did they do you, but throw out a cruel,
corrupt and feeble regime
and install a government that was truer to them and their needs?
There's enough to hang him already.
I'll tell you why.
To put back that cruel, corrupt and feeble regime.
So that Louis the Gouty
could be winkled out of his exile's trough in England to oppress his people again.
MAN: Too right.
- So fat he can hardly fit his carriage. - (All laugh)
So feeble he must be carried everywhere in a chair.
That's why our soldiers fought.
That's why they died.
Send half the men down that street.
Bring the rest to me, here.
When I signal, proceed, but slowly, into the square.
But that will leave egress, sir. Truman will escape.
I will cover those.
I want to leave egress for the crowd, not for Truman.
He'll stay to the end. I reckon he'll have words for us.
When the square is clear. Then's our chance at him.
- Sergeant Major Harper. - Sir.
Return with Captain Wickham. Bring half the men directly to me.
Sir.
WICKHAM: Mr. Fosdyke. - Sir.
Take half the horse. Circle round the back of the square, come to Major Sharpe.
Sergeant Major Sharpe said they should go direct to him.
And they do go direct, Harper.
But by a circular route.
Mr. Fosdyke,
if people start to run. Sift them for Truman.
Sift them fine. You understand?
I want no rebel escaping.
Right. Here's some fun.
I say, throw them out!
- (Cheering) - Drive them out.
We will not have peace, nor justice, until we choose the people who rule us.
(All cheer and shout)
Where are they?
He's gone and sent them round the back with Fosdyke.
The bastard.
There he is.
Get him.
Troop...
forward.
TRUMAN: Here they come. My friends.
- Tools of tyranny. WOMAN: They wouldn't dare!
Major Sharpe and his merry men.
It ain't enough putting Frenchies back to slavery.
Now he wants to put you to the sword.
(Women scream)
Come on, let's find them a way out.
(Woman screams)
Hold your weapons!
These people are not armed.
Hold your weapons!
Get out of here!
Make to the sides, my friends. Do not fight them.
Get him!
Get him, man!
Get out of here now! To the side!
Call your men off.
- Truman will escape. - Bugger him. You're murdering innocent people.
They are not innocent. They are here!
Get out of here!
Get out of here, you stupid buggers!
(Screaming)
You bastard.
Sharpe!
This is you, Sharpe!
You.
Captain Wickham, sir.
(Bell tolls)
It won't do.
It won't do at all.
People dead.
Workers dead.
Dead by my yeomanry!
- How will that look in Horse Guards? - They attacked us, sir.
Did they?
Where's Sharpe?
- Still in town. - Sent you back to face the music. Did he?
- Where's Truman, then? - He got away.
You didn't catch Truman?!
What the blasted hell were you playing at?!
Major Sharpe ordered our forces split
and that we advance on the people in the square.
Despite my advice that we concentrate upon Truman only.
The result, inevitably, was panic.
The mob turned on my men. One was killed.
We had to defend ourselves.
Unfortunately, Truman made off in the confusion.
- That's what happened, is it? - Yes.
(Door)
I have just heard, Willoughby. This is terrible news. Terrible.
Aye... Shocking.
After all, Sharpe was in command.
Was he not?
- He gave the orders? - He did.
So, if Horse Guards send me a bloodthirsty maniac,
what do they expect to happen?
Exactly, sir.
The strange thing is...
...all those poor folk died for nothing.
Truman's free, ain't he?
A wanted traitor
let run free.
Now, why do you think that happened?
Eh?
(Dog barks in distance)
(Footsteps)
This is a bad business.
And who'll be blamed for it?
(Room falls silent)
You...
are not wanted here.
Nonetheless, here is where we are.
You murdering bastards!
What happened in the square was not my doing.
- It was your men. - Dan!
To us. Man.
Stand back, or more will die.
Aye.
And you among 'em. You should leave, Sharpe.
- I will not. - Then they'll fight you.
- Then I will kill them. - Before they kill you?
And what will it achieve?
More dead.
And more people to hate you for killing their brothers and wives.
Aye, and their poor children.
Leave now, while you can.
(Murmur of voices)
MAN: Get out, you murdering bastards...
Go on.
Be on your way.
- Don't show your face here. Get out. - Get out, go on.
Murderers.
Traitors.
HARPER: Just as I was beginning to like the place.
Where to now?
- Sally Bunting might take us in. Otherwise... - Sharpe!
What happened in the square?
I gave the orders. They were not followed.
I didn't mean what happened to happen.
I tried to stop it.
I'm sorry.
It's too late for sorry.
But I'm still sorry.
You should leave.
Contrition might not be enough for these folk.
A slit throat on a dark night would be enough for you.
I'm surprised you care.
Aye.
Well...
there's a lot about me you don't know, Dick Sharpe.
And there's one thing you don't know about me.
I don't run away.
And I'm not leaving.
Then you're a stubborn fool.
Maybe it was you who taught me to be stubborn.
I didn't teach you into that uniform.
But it is the one I wear.
I heard what you said about the war and I'll tell you this much,
that I did fight for my king,
but mainly I fought for myself and for my friends and to stay alive.
And because I was good at it.
The trouble is, you were fighting the wrong people.
You still are.
"The Scarsdale Yeomanry,
under the command of Major Richard Sharpe,
taker of the French eagle at..."
Blah, blah, blah.
"...surrounded the square wherein the largely peaceful meeting was being held,
and, at Sharpe's order, charged headlong into the crowd."
"Despite the admonitions of his subordinate officers,
Sharpe recklessly and determinedly pursued his aim
until the air was rent with the screams of the dying,
and the stones of Keighley were wet with English blood."
- What will happen to him? - I don't know.
Horse Guards will order an inquiry.
- So, it is bad for Richard. - Yes.
It could finish him.
At the least, he will lose his commission and end his years in the Colonies.
Good.
Then he will be out of our way.
He is an honorable man. I do not believe what the papers say.
I regret that I have played a part in his present misfortune.
When I look at you, my love, I think, "What else could I have done?"
And what's more, to keep you, I know I would do it all again.
Is there nothing a little bit stronger than milk lying around here?
Do you know that drink's an abomination?
Oh, yeah. Sally has mentioned that to me.
Once or twice.
What are you reading?
The Book of Job.
Job.
The Book of Job.
He'd a terrible hard time.
Poor old Job.
Boils, you know?
Yeah, I read about the boils.
And this...
"The earth is given into the hand of the wicked; he covereth the faces of the judges thereof."
Mmm...
Very cheerful stuff.
I don't much like being on the wrong side, Pat.
"Man is bon unto trouble as the sparks fly upward."
He must have been thinking about us.
There you go.
I want a headstone for my mother's grave, Sal.
It's all right, I'll pay for it.
But... I think my old mam deserves better than an old wood cross.
An old wood cross? That cross was all that could be had once t'grave had been paid!
- I'm sorry, Sal. - Who looked after Lizzie Sharpe
in her last years, when all she'd do with her money were drink it?
And who tended her when she were poxed and dying?
And who waited 20 years for you to come back and how I wish you had not?
Sally, Sally, I'm sorry. I'm a fool.
I should have known that you'd look after everything.
Not just me. Not just me! Matt Truman, too.
Truman?
You weren't the only bundle of rags Lizzie left at t'workhouse door.
What?
He's your brother, you fool!
I saw t'records long before they were burned.
It's true!
But...
we always fought.
Aye. And I always pulled you apart.
Does he know?
Of course he knows!
He laid her in her grave, didn't he?
I wanted to tell you, but you were so set against him.
Richard...
I will... I will arrange a headstone, but...
You must tell me what you want written.
I'm sorry, Richard.
It's all right.
You were right to say it.
Truman. Where is he?
I don't know.
- Mr. Harper and me want our rooms back. - Major Sharpe, sir.
What do you want, Hagman?
To talk to Major Sharpe.
Talk, then.
Some of us who should have known better were a bit hasty, sir.
There were more than a few looking at a nasty death on t'end of a yeoman's sword
when you and Sergeant Major Harper intervened.
What went on were bad,
but I were wrong to think you had nowt to do with it.
Not everybody will be so easily convinced.
But thanks.
No
will you do something for me?
Aye, sir.
Find Truman.
- Truman? I don't know... - I know you do, Dan.
I want to talk to him, not arrest him.
Now, tell him...
Tell him to meet me at his mother's grave.
Aye, sir.
His mother?
Aye, sir. Got it off t'lass at t'workhouse.
I'll wager it was the pox killed her.
Aye, it seems so, sir.
- T'pox and gin. - Ladies present, gentlemen.
Ladies. You know.
But what's better yet
is that Major Sharpe isn't this woman's only bastard, sir.
What?! Who else?
Matthew Truman.
Truman?
Truman is...
is Sharpe's brother?!
Or step-brother. I doubt their fathers were the same.
Lizzie Sharpe was...
was very free with her affections.
So, the brave Major Sharpe
is the brother of a prescribed felon.
Now, that is ripe.
Don't you find it ripe, Anne?
Very ripe, sir.
It's more than ripe, George!
This is the reason he let Truman get away!
- That's how it seems, sir. - Seems? It bloody is!
And they'll meet again.
Brotherly love, et cetera.
Which means he'll be aiding and abetting a fugitive.
Which is transportation, at least.
Transportation?!
It means crows having his eyeballs for breakfast.
The question is,
where will they meet?
(Knock at door)
Bring it in.
Where do you want it, sir?
Hell. Damn this.
Why are you here, ma'am?
I see your manners have not improved.
No.
Nor has my situation.
What do you want, ma'am?
I wanted to wan you, but I knew you would not listen, so...
I will give you information instead.
Did you know that it is only Parfitt's mills that do not get burned, and yet his are the ones
most would like to bun.
Parfitt organizes the burnings?
I don't know. But he knows which owners are weak, and how to make them weaker.
I heard, too, that Percy Stanwyck has a new steam engine
coming over from Bolton tomorrow evening, due for one of his factories.
I�ve heard of this engine. It is no secret.
Is it no secret that it will not reach Stanwyck's factory?
What?
It will be attacked and destroyed.
How do you know this?
People confide in me.
And, if people do not, doors do.
You mean Wickham confides in you.
Are you jealous, Major Sharpe?
No.
Why are you telling me this?
You are foolish enough to do something about it.
And because you may want to wipe out some of the shame of your last battle honor.
Keighley town.
Do you believe that?
No.
Wickham...
He has a lot to answer for.
But then again, he has my lady's favor.
Is that what you think?
- I have eyes. - But no brain.
All Wickham has had of me, or kissed of me,
was my hand.
And, for that, I was glad to be wearing gloves.
- I'm sorry. - So you say.
But your imputations continue.
You never look like a gentleman,
but you used, at least, to act like one.
I am sorry, ma'am.
They know about you and Truman.
That you are his brother.
Are you ashamed to be seen with me, then?
No. Clearly not.
But take care, Richard.
Please.
I will take care.
Of you.
My mother said I shouldn't marry a weaver
If you do, he'll break your heart
(Gasps)
I want to talk to a friend of yours, Sally.
- Matt Truman. - I don't know him, sir.
Oh, but you do. And you know where he is.
No, I don't.
(Sally gasps)
Where's Truman, Sal?
I don't know.
(Sobs) Please don't!
Please don't...
I'll take this.
Salving your conscience, are you?
Maybe
Maybe yours, too
Why didn't you tell me?
Tell you?
You were so high and mighty, riding with your gentlemen,
you'd have shot me as soon as talked to me.
Yeah.
Maybe I would.
A soldier in the family.
Your mam would have died of shame.
Not that she had much of that.
- She knew nothing about me? - The famous Major Sharpe?
No chance.
Our mam's universe swam in a gin bottle.
England's not what you expected, is it?
I'm going to take Parfitt on.
- You'll fight him? - I'll do what I can.
I�ll wreck one of his schemes, anyway.
It means changing sides. Dick.
And there are precious few on this one.
And no changing back, neither.
Those are my sort of odds.
Aye. Mine too.
I'll be glad to have you.
Welcome home, brother.
Yeomanry!
- Sally, she was meant to be... - Forget her.
This road.
Sergeant!
Take half the men to your left. I want Sharpe.
Yes, sir!
Dan!
Go!
Sharpe!
HARPER: Come on, for God's sake. - Matt... Matt...
For God's sake, let's go!
Let's go.
HAGMAN: Come on, sir.
Come on.
(Knock at door)
(Weakly) Who's there?
Daniel Hagman, miss.
Major Sharpe sent me to ask you a question.
- I know. - Why did you set the soldiers on him?
I'm sorry. I tried.
(Sobs)
Who did it, lass?
- Who did this to thee? - It was...
S-Saunders. Saunders did it to me.
I tried so hard to keep quiet.
(Sobs)
I'm all right. I'm all right. I'm all right.
No, you're not. Let me look at thee, lass.
Is he all right? Major Sharpe?
Don't you worry about him.
They're all out to catch him.
Aye, he's used to that.
He's got some loose ends need tying up.
And it looks to me
like that bugger Saunders is one of 'em.
What are you thinking?
Oh...
About Matt Truman, maybe?
No.
Well, yes and no.
I was thinking about Lucille.
Whether Matt would have liked her.
I think he would.
You're wanting to get back home, so you are.
Yes, I want to get back.
Back to Normandy. Back to the farm.
She's a fine figure of a woman, you know, that Lady Anne.
So is Ramona, Patrick.
So, you'd better watch how your tongue wags, otherwise you'll find it wrapped round your head.
Oh, let's settle our scores.
Get out of this sorry place for good.
Me to France, you to Ireland.
Aye.
That would be grand.
(Footsteps)
Sir...
there's another score to settle.
(Drunkenly) To Sharpe!
The romantic
who set free this... exquisite woman for us all to admire.
I second that!
As lovely as money, you are, miss.
Come on, Johnny, raise your glass.
You'll be able to afford a better claret soon enough.
(Chuckles)
I'm sorry Lady Anne could not be here.
She pleaded a headache.
Though I suspect it was more fear
of being...
outshone by you, my dear!
- Captain Wickham... - Steady, George, steady.
I thought Annie was soft on you.
Oh, my cloth is cut too fine, sir.
Her taste is for rutting in a midden,
no doubt with that scoundrel, Sharpe.
WICKHAM: Another toast.
Another toast?
To Sharpe, the outlaw,
for handing us Truman on a plate.
May he soon swing beside him
- on a gibbet! - George!
Pardon. Forgive.
JANE: It is no matter.
What do you say, Rossendale?
I'll swap you one of my mills for this young beauty.
Hm? Does that seem fair to you, hm?
I give you waning, sir.
You're going too strong, George. Rein in, man!
Rossendale doesn't need any of your mills.
He'll have his own soon enough.
Courtesy of Sir Percy.
Excuse me, gentlemen.
Here is to smoking mills...
...and a prosperous life.
I shall kill him.
John...
- Don't be... - He insulted you. Drunk and arrogant pup.
He is drunk.
He is a pup.
It is no matter to me.
Jane...
I will not have you looked at, spoken to, like that.
- I cannot bear it. - John...
I left Richard because he would fight with anyone for no reason.
Do you want me to leave you too?
When we have what we need from Parfitt,
we can return to London. We will have nothing more to do with him.
Isn�t that better than making an enemy of him now?
Yes.
Oh... Jane...
What would I do without you?
Sometimes I wonder.
Someone rang the bell.
I did. Go in and clean up the mess.
(Knock at door)
Enter.
Anne!
What is it? You've got tired of Parfitt's company, have you?
No. But I was in danger of outstaying my welcome.
I have a message for you.
Another invitation to one of his interminable dinners, is it?
No. A warning... about your steam engine.
What? What about it?
You two don't have to do this, you know?
You're not in the army now.
We know we don't have to.
- You'll hang if they catch you. - Never stopped us before.
Any road, what else would we be doing on such a night as this?
We could be having a good long drink.
Or a mutton chop.
- With a goodly wench. - In a goose-feather bed.
Aye.
BOTH: A goose-feather bed! (Horse whinnies)
Go on!
Yay!
Go on.
(Horses whinny)
Aaargh!
Bastards.
Better load it, first.
No. Please don't.
Is that what Sally Bunting said?
Sir!
Leave him, Pat. He's mine.
Together?
Separate?
I can take you scum any time.
Do me the honor first.
First lesson of battle. Keep your feet.
Second lesson.
Live with the pain.
MAN: Yeoman... Yeoman!
They're not yeomanry. They're dragoons.
What the devil's this, Sharpe?
Thank God you've come, my lord.
They fell upon us, slaughtered the wagoners...
They attacked first, sir. We tried...
I have eyes, sir.
I can see my engine attacked, my men killed.
I see you and your thugs with blood on your hands. That's what I see.
WICKHAM: Exactly. Sir.
Now, if you'll order him to unhand me...
Quiet.
I'm talking to you. Sir.
Yes, you, you prancing coward.
You and your bunch of murderous footpads.
Major Sharpe.
You are entirely at liberty to finish the job that you started.
- My lord? - End him, sir.
You have reason enough.
No.
He's done more than enough to deserve a hanging.
Let him hang.
I won't dirty my sword.
(Door and footsteps)
- Percy? What's all this? - I know your game.
Weaken and buy up.
And where you can't buy up,
burn out.
- Percy, I... - Don't Percy me. You jumped-up guttersnipe.
So...
I was your target, was I?
My men to be butchered.
My engine destroyed.
My mills to fall into your pocket.
Well, they're not going to, are they?
When mills start falling, they'll be yours,
while you rot in a cell thinking on your greed.
Sir Percy, I protest.
I knew nothing about your engine.
If workers have been hurt, I can arrange to compensate.
Shut up!
I don't want to hear it. Major Sharpe?
You have some demands, sir?
Yes.
You, Sir Willoughby,
you will write me a letter to Horse Guards.
You will tell the truth of what happened in Keighley square.
You will describe the role of Captain Wickham.
And you will lay the blame for the deaths where it belongs.
At his doorstep.
Is that clear?
And you, my lord...
...will obtain release from my commission in the Scarsdale Yeomanry.
I don't know if I can.
You can pull strings to undo it!
Yes.
I will do it.
And as for the rest,
nothing has changed.
Do you understand?
Thank you, sir.
Thank my son, Sharpe.
HAGMAN: Who'll sing the anthem
And who'll tell the story?
Will the line hold?
Will it scatter and run?
Shall we at last be united in glory
Only remembered for what we have done?
ALL: Only remembered
Only remembered
Only remembered for what we have done
Shall we at last be united in glory
Only remembered for what we have done?
Only remembered
For what we have done
(Bell tolls)
Bury him deep, Sally.
And no headstone.
Parfitt won't be beyond digging him up again.
Maybe there'll be a time for names soon enough.
Aye, maybe.
But now you'll leave and forget us another 20 years.
I won't forget you, Sal.
(Bell tolls)
I have come to ask you a favor, Richard.
You think I still do you favors, Jane?
If you place any value on what was between us.
Value.
The value of what we had between us is short by 10,000 guineas.
Is money everything?
It is to you, Jane.
The minute you found a lord, you lifted your skirt and fell on your back.
What's your favor?
Do not ask him to sell the estate.
I�ve already asked him and he's already promised me.
- He will not do it. - He will. Or I'll kill him.
If you do not promise to leave him alone,
he swears he will not obtain you the release from your commission.
You will be deserting your post.
You will be hunted down and arrested.
My Good
he's even more afraid of you than he is of me.
Tell me, Jane, is this the life you want?
With a man like him?
I have made my bed, I lie in it.
It is soft enough.
He will write the letter if you promise to leave us be.
I don't care about the letter.
I want the money he stole from me.
Money which was earned by my blood and the blood of my men.
You cannot have it.
We were man and wife. That money was mine as much as yours.
If you come after him, he will ruin you.
At Horse Guards. Everywhere.
You will have no career. No prospects.
There is no war.
So I already have no career.
And since your little lord won't keep his word,
there's no point in talking to him.
If I see him, I'll kill him. Is that clear enough to you?
You will never have the chance.
You're right, there is no war, so they don't need you.
They'll be glad to be rid of you.
You're a relic.
An embarrassment.
Worse.
You're an animal.
All you can do is kill.
John doesn't have to have a sword in his hand to be a man.
I thank God for the day he saved me from you.
He's a hundred times the man
you ever were.
He knows how to talk.
He knows how to live.
And he knows how to love.
Your mother was a whore.
You were bon in the gutter.
And that is where you still belong.
Ireland, Pat?
Oh, yeah. Ireland.
Prettier women.
Faster horses.
And some decent conversation.
What about you, Dan?
I haven't got anywhere else to go, sir.
Besides, I'm getting a taste for the local ale.
That's not the only local you're getting a taste for, Dan.
Hey...
Look after her.
Good luck to you, Dan. Good luck, my friend.
Right...
Look after yourselves.
HARPER: Oi.
- You know what they say? - What?
Vive la France.
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