|
|
Our first letter is a reply, sent in about 1676 by the Zaparozhian Cossacks to the Sultan Mohammed IV of Turkey, after he had enquired if they would like to surrender. "I, Sultan Mohammed", he had written, "Brother of the Sun and the Moon, Grandson and Vicar of God, Ruler of Kingdoms, Outstanding Knight, and Invincible Warrior, hereby order you Zaporozhzhian Cossacks: do obey my will unquestioningly and never again dare bother me with your raids!” The Cossacks' reply became so famous the writing of the letter was immortalised some 230 years later by the artist Ilia Repin.
At first glance, the Cossacks' reply seems to consist of nothing more than a stream of vitriolic abuse. However, it is also an intelligent parody of the Sultan's titles; Thou Turkish Devil! Brother and companion to the accursed Devil, and Secretary to Lucifer himself, Greetings! What the hell kind of noble knight art thou? Satan voids and thy army devours. Never wilt thou be fit to have the sons of Christ under thee. Thy army we fear not, and by land and by sea in our chaikas we will do battle against thee. Thou scullion of Babylon, thou beer-brewer of Jerusalem, thou goat-thief of Alexandria, thou swineherd of Egypt (both the Greater and the Lesser), thou Armenian pig and Tartar goat. Thou hangman of Kamyanets, thou evildoer of Podolia, thou great silly oaf of all the world and of the netherworld and, before our God, a blockhead, a swine's snout, a mare's ass, and clown of Hades. May the devil take thee! That is what the Cossacks have to say to thee, thou basest born of runts! Unfit art thou to lord it over true Christians! The date we know not, for no calender have we got. The moon (month) is in the sky, the year is in a book, and the day is the same with us here as with ye over there - and thou can kiss us thou knowest where!
Koshoviy Otaman Ivan Sirko
We take it that's a "no", then.... Our next letter was written during the war by the British Ambassador to Moscow, to Lord Pembroke at The Foreign Office in London. At it's heart is nothing more than a purile schoolboy gag, however the beauty of this letter is in it's quintessentially English phraseology. Beyond that, we make no comment! Unfortunately, our copy of the letter (below) is not legible over the internet, so you'll have to trust us on the following transcription:
|
|
My Dear Reggie, In these dark days man tends to look for little shafts of light from Heaven. My days are probably darker than yours, and I need, my God I do, all the light I can get. But I am a decent fellow, and I do not want to be mean about what little brightness is shed upon me from time to time. So I propose to share with you a tiny flash that has illuminated my sombre life, and tell you that God has given me a new Turkish colleague whose card tells me he is called Mustapha Kunt. We all feel like that, Reggie, now and then, especially when Spring is upon upon us, but few of us would care to put it on our cards. It takes a Turk to do that.
Sir Archibald Clerk Kerr |
|
_________________________________________________________________________________
| |
|
Meanwhile, in another, earlier letter to The Foreign Office, the Duke of Wellington seemed somewhat irked. It would appear that the Iron Duke, by the time he reached Spain in August 1812, was growing weary of pen-pushers in London |
|
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 the 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, |
|
|
_________________________________________________________________________________
In November 1677, Caryll, 3rd Viscount Molyneux, was having a bit of a disagreement with his neighbour Edward Moore, over some rabbits. Things appear to have become a little heated... | |
|
Sir Yours dated the 9th instant, I received on the 25th and did more in your absence, than I would have done had you bene at home. Which was to send my tenants in Kirkdall to come to me; about the takeing of Rabbits, who I find much perplext saying they payed me a fine, and likewise payes me rent duchy and that they know noe reason, why they should not make there best advantage of there estates which they cannot doe, by reason of the greate trespasse your Rabbits makes upon them. aledging that they cannot gone neire your warren but there corne will be eaten up; nay one saide that he grew this last yeare on an a half stone of wheate and lost a third parte: however I presuaded with them that they will forbeare driving any more till you come home and I then hope things may be con...ssed in a frindly manner; which is the desire of; your ffrend to (unclear) Caryll Molyneux |
Which is all very well, until we get to the PS, when things turn nasty.... I heare your Lady threatens much but what was done was done before your letter came to me soe that I desire you will give orders that all things may cease till we meete. As touching the middle part of your letter wherein you mention that you have not disoblidged me nor my familie since our last agreement, though you have bene much prest thereunto; give me leave to tell you that I am confident it is neither in your power or (unclear) to doe me or myne any injurie and if they please to show them felues (be who they will) I make noe doubt but they shall, for I am not desstitute of frends that may be equivalent to there malice. I suppose the modern day vernacular equivalent would be "Don't you dare threaten me. I have friends, mate, I have friends". All a bit dramatic, for a few rabbits, and some corn.... |
