All doubts as to a battle not taking place were now hushed, and the soldiers of both armies were aware that the result was to decide to whom Madrid belonged. The die was cast; neither were inclined to back out of it, or to gainsay what they had in a manner pledged themselves to fulfil; and the evening of the 21st July 1812 closed upon the heads of many a soldier who was destined never to behold the setting of another sun. Nevertheless, the 3rd Division under Pakenham had not been recalled; on the contrary, we were busy in throwing up breastworks, and by other means adding to the strength of the position we occupied. Our division, though encamped on a height of considerable altitude, had received strict orders to entrench themselves; the earth was thrown up, the works were palisaded, and in fine they were so well secured that we had no fear of an attack or surprise. It is this precaution that marks the great general. Lord Wellington had no idea of being taken aback by any change in Marmont’s plans during the night: on the contrary, he was convinced that he was serious in his desire to give battle; but to guard against any and every chance was but right. Marmont might have again, on the night of the 21st, passed the river, and brought his army in battle array before a handful of men, and cut them off piecemeal before his movement could have been arrested by the British General. The thing was not probable—barely possible; but where possibilities, much less probabilities, exist, it is essential that the mind of the commander should be awake, and instead of brooding over what is likely to take place the following day, look to what may take place in the night. It was a remark of that eminent general, Kleber, that to be surprised was much more disgraceful than to be defeated: he said, “the bravest man may be beaten; but whoever suffers himself to be surprised is unworthy of being an officer.”