A man less single-minded must have succumbed to exasperation, thrown up his command and taken ship for home, inviting some of his innumerable critics to take his place at the head of the troops, and give free rein to the military genius that inspired their critical dissertations.

Wellington, however, has been rightly termed of iron, and never did he show himself more of iron than in those trying days of 1810.

Stern, but with a passionless sternness, he pursued his way towards the goal he had set himself, allowing no criticism, no censure, no invective so much as to give him pause in his majestic progress.
Unfortunately the lofty calm of the Commander-in-Chief was not shared by his lieutenants.

The Light Division was quartered along the River Agueda, watching the Spanish frontier, beyond which Marshal Ney was demonstrating against Ciudad Rodrigo, and for lack of funds its fiery-tempered commander, Sir Robert Craufurd, found himself at last unable to feed his troops.

Exasperated by these circumstances, Sir Robert was betrayed into an act of rashness.