This decision does not preclude the judgement of history, nor will it sway that of posterity. The court-martial was assembled twenty months after the event, when the war being happily terminated, men’s minds were little disposed to treat past failures with severity. There were two distinct prosecutors, having different views; the proceedings were conducted at a distance from the scene of action, defects of memory could not be remedied by references to localities, and a door was opened for contradiction and doubt upon important points. There was no indication that the members of the court were unanimous in their verdict; they were confined to specific charges, restricted by legal rules of evidence, and deprived of the testimony of all the Spanish officers, who were certainly discontented with Murray’s conduct, and whose absence caused the serious charge of abandoning Copons’ army to be suppressed. Moreover the warmth of temper displayed by the principal prosecutor, admiral Hallowel, together with his signal on lord William Bentinck’s arrival, whereby, to the detriment of discipline, he manifested his contempt for the general with whom he was acting, gave Murray an advantage which he improved skilfully, for he was a man sufficiently acute and prompt when not at the head of an army. He charged the admiral with deceit, factious dealings, and disregard of the service; described him as a man of a passionate overweening, busy disposition, troubled with excess of vanity, meddling with everything, and thinking himself competent to manage both troops and ships. Nevertheless sir John Murray had signally failed, both as an independent general, and as a lieutenant acting under superior orders. On his trial, blending these different capacities together, with expert sophistry he pleaded his instructions in excuse for his errors as a free commander, and his discretionary power in mitigation of his disobedience as a lieutenant; but his operations were indefensible in both capacities. Lord Wellington’s instructions, precise, and founded upon the advantages offered by a command of the sea, prescribed an attack upon Taragona, with a definite object, namely, to deliver Valencia. “_You tell me_,” said he, “_that the line of the Xucar, which covers Valencia, is too strong to force; turn it then by the ocean, assail the rear of the enemy, and he will weaken his strong line to protect his communication; or, he will give you an opportunity to establish a new base of operations behind him._”