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A history of the Peninsular War, Vol. 2, Jan.-Sep. 1809

Note 372 — Chapter I

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Take, for example, his behaviour to Sir James MacGrigor, perhaps the most successful of his chiefs of departments. MacGrigor, being at Salamanca, while Wellesley was at Madrid [Aug. 1812], ordered on his own authority the bringing up of stores for the mass of wounded left behind there after the battle. He then came to bring his report to Madrid. ‘Lord Wellington was sitting to a Spanish painter [Goya] for his portrait when I arrived, and asked me to sit down and give him a detail as to the state of the wounded at Salamanca. When I came to inform him that for their relief I had ordered up purveying and commissariat officers, he started up, and in a violent manner reprobated what I had done. His Lordship was in a passion, and the Spanish artist, ignorant of the English language, looked aghast, and at a loss to know what I had done to enrage him so much. “I shall be glad to know,” he asked, “who is to command the army, I or you? I establish one route, one line of communications for the army; you establish another, and order up supplies by it. As long as you live, sir, never do that again; never do anything without my orders.” I pleaded that there was no time to consult him, and that I had to save lives. He peremptorily desired me “never again to act without his orders.” ... A month later I was able to say to him, “My Lord, recollect how you blamed me at Madrid for the steps which I took on coming up to the army, when I could not consult your Lordship, and acted for myself. Now, if I had not, what would the consequences have been?” He answered, “It is all right as has turned out; but I recommend you still to have my orders for what you do.” This was a singular feature in the character of Lord Wellington.’ MacGrigor’s Autobiography, pp. 302-3 and 311.

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