Gentlemen,
Whilst
marching from Portugal to a position which commands the approach to Madrid and
the French forces, my officers have been diligently complying with your
requests which have been sent by H.M. ship from London to Lisbon and thence by
dispatch to our headquarters.
We
have enumerated our saddles, bridles, tents and tent poles, and all manner of
sundry items for which His Majesty’s Government holds me accountable. I have
dispatched reports on the character, wit, and spleen of every officer. Each
item and every farthing has been accounted for, with two regrettable exceptions
for which I beg your indulgence.
Unfortunately
the sum of one shilling and ninepence remains unaccounted for in one infantry
battalion’s petty cash and there has been a hideous confusion as to the number
of jars of raspberry jam issued to one cavalry regiment during a sandstorm in
western Spain. This reprehensible carelessness may be related to the pressure
of circumstance, since we are war with France, a fact which may come as a bit
of a surprise to you gentlemen in Whitehall.
This
brings me to my present purpose, which is to request elucidation of my
instructions from His Majesty’s Government so that I may better understand why
I am dragging an army over these barren plains. I construe that perforce it
must be one of two alternative duties, as given below. I shall pursue either
one with the best of my ability, but I cannot do both:
1.
To train an army of uniformed British clerks in Spain for the benefit of the
accountants and copy-boys in London
or,
perchance,
2.
To see to it that the forces of Napoleon are driven out of Spain.
Your
most obedient servant,
Wellington
Re-blogged from http://www.unreasonableman.net/
No comments:
Post a Comment