That post of vantage had to be left to the foe. Moore was obliged to content himself with a lower ridge, nearer to the walls, which was quickly put into a state of defence. A short rest was given to the soldiers, new muskets and ammunition were supplied, and the officers strenuously exerted themselves to restore discipline. But this was no longer difficult. When once the Army stood at bay, facing the enemy, every trace of insubordination vanished. The greater number of Moore’s soldiers were young; yet in their fighting powers they could not have been outdone by veterans. So desperate did the condition of things seem to be for the English, with the transports not yet come, and with a greatly superior force occupying a greatly superior position, that, though Moore’s heart never failed him, the hearts of some did sink at this juncture, even of brave men, high in rank. Moore called no Council of War; he asked no man’s opinion. But certain of his Generals ventured to offer unsought advice. They put before him the extreme unlikelihood that they could long resist an enemy descending upon them from the heights; and they represented the heavy loss to life which would certainly result from an attempt to embark in the transports during such attacks. Then they suggested that, since affairs had reached so perilous a stage, it might be well to send a flag of truce to Soult, asking permission, on honourable terms, to depart unmolested. Moore disdainfully flung the counsel from him, without an instant’s parley. Capitulate! Never! If the French came on, let them come! He would fight to the last. The Generals bowed to his fiery decision, and said no more. Indomitable as Moore was, however, the strain of the last few weeks had been tremendous, and it had told upon him heavily. All through the 12th of January he was hard at work, preparing for the battle which might take place. Everything was thought of; every possible precaution was taken. He reviewed the troops; and by his own splendid confidence and dauntless air he breathed fresh energy into their jaded ranks. The evening of that day saw him nearly worn out with his ceaseless exertions; yet at daybreak he was once more in the saddle, reconnoitring the enemy’s camp, and visiting every part of his own. By eleven o’clock strength failed, and he came back to headquarters utterly spent. Rest had become a necessity before he could do more. He sent for Stuart, brother to Lord Castlereagh, who was suffering from his eyes, and, therefore, was unfit for active service. Moore desired him to start at once for England, in a vessel then about to leave, and to place before Ministers the precise position of the Army. In an ordinary way Sir John would have written details with his own hand, but his present exhaustion made this impossible. “I cannot write—I am too tired,” he said wearily. “But there is no need. You understand everything, and you will explain all fully.”