A fresh column of French troops had left the city and were making for the track to reinforce the assault on the convent. Three battalions of them, Arthur calculated. He turned to take a quick glance at the rest of Oporto and noticed that a small crowd of people had emerged on to the quays to the left of the remains of the demolished bridge. He examined them through his telescope and saw that they were civilians. More and more of them appeared, rushing out from side streets and racing towards the boats that Soult had ordered to be moved to the north bank. There was no sign of any French soldiers along the quay and Arthur guessed at once that Soult had been forced to strip men from that part of the city to send them against Waters and the men in the convent. The Portuguese swarmed aboard the boats and the first of them began to row across towards the south bank.
‘Poor devils,’ Harris muttered as he stood beside Arthur. ‘Taking their chance to escape from the French, I imagine.’
‘Escape be damned,’ Arthur replied. ‘They’re coming to help us get across.’
He was back in his saddle in an instant and spurring his horse back to headquarters. As soon as he arrived he had orders sent to the nearest units to get down to the river as swiftly as possible and use the flotilla of small craft to get across to the far bank.When the orders were given Arthur rode down to the shore and watched in delight as the Portuguese hauled the waiting redcoats into their boats and desperately rowed them across to the north bank before returning for the next load. Soon the broad expanse of the Douro was dotted with craft of all sizes criss-crossing its glassy surface. A handful of French guns downriver of the city fired at long range, sending up spouts of water, but none of their shots struck home, and only one overloaded craft foundered as it was swamped by a wave from a near miss.Those on board panicked and the craft capsized, spilling them into the river.There were several soldiers on board, and only two of them managed to cling on to the upturned hulk with the Portuguese who had been at the oars. The others, weighed down by their kit, sank without trace.
Once the first two battalions had crossed the river and had begun to climb the streets leading from the quay into the heart of the city, Arthur handed his horse over to a soldier. Beckoning to Somerset, he climbed into a small launch and gestured towards the north bank. There were two civilians at the oars, and they nodded eagerly, bending at once to their work and stroking across the Douro as swiftly as they could. Somerset ducked as a round shot whirred close by and slapped into the water fifty feet upriver.
‘Close,’ he muttered.
Arthur’s heart was pounding in his chest but he forced himself to keep his expression calm as he arched an eyebrow. ‘But not too close, eh?’
Somerset stared at his general a moment before glancing away and shaking his head.
As soon as the boat thumped up against the base of the quay, Arthur stepped out on to the stone steps and ran to the top. On either side, redcoats were forming up in companies and being led up the streets into Oporto. Arthur and Somerset joined a company of men from the Twenty-Ninth Foot and the small force marched up a wide street, fronted by the counters of fish merchants and chandlers. The windows of the buildings on either side of the street were filled with women fluttering their handkerchiefs and crying out in shrill delight as they caught sight of their liberators.
‘ Viva Ingleses! . . .Viva Ingleses!’
Somerset waved back with a broad smile, but Arthur kept his gaze fixed ahead, watching for the first sign of the enemy. But they only encountered more and more of the excited inhabitants as they penetrated further into the city. When they reached the great plaza in front of the cathedral Arthur encountered a colonel of one of the first battalions to cross the river with the Portuguese. His men had occupied the square and were guarding the streets that led into it. In the centre, around a fountain, sat several hundred French prisoners.
‘Hughes! Your report, if you please.’
‘Yes, sir. I’ve got patrols searching the streets, but most of the frogs have gone. They’ve left their sick and injured behind, as well as wagons and supplies. Any Frenchmen we’ve encountered have just fired a shot and fled, or laid down their muskets and surrendered.’
‘Very well.’ Arthur nodded happily. ‘Then I want you to take four of your companies to the east of the city. There’s a track leading down to a convent held by our men. It’s under attack by a French column. Have your men block the track and call on the French to surrender.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘One last thing. Have you found Soult’s headquarters yet?’
‘Yes, sir, over there.’ Hughes turned and pointed to a large building with an ornate facade that stood on one side of the square.‘Seems to be the seat of the local government.’
‘Thank you.’ Arthur and Somerset made towards it, accompanied by the men who had escorted them up from the quay. They entered the building cautiously, but there was every sign that it had been abandoned in a hurry. Bundles of bedding lay strewn across the entrance hall. Paintings that had been stripped from the walls were propped in the corner, Soult’s staff presumably not having time to load them into wagons before leaving. From a balcony on the second floor Arthur had a clear view over the roofs of the city towards the north and east. Beyond the walls he could see the dense column of Soult’s retreating column beneath a pall of dust. There was little sign of an organised rearguard, just a long tail of stragglers and overloaded wagons. For the moment the French were safe. There was no chance of mounting a pursuit until the next day, when the rest of the allied army would have crossed the river. Unlike Vimeiro, there would be no letting the enemy escape,Arthur resolved.This time he would harry the French all the way to the frontier with Spain.
Chapter 57
Throughout the night the people of Oporto celebrated their liberation and pressed food and drink on any redcoats they encountered in the streets. Arthur had paused only long enough to enjoy the meal that was still set for Marshal Soult on the table at the headquarters he had abandoned.Then he had returned to the quay to supervise the crossing of the rest of his army. All through the night, boats continued to ferry the rest of the infantry, the artillery and supplies over to the north bank. The cavalry had been sent upriver to find a crossing and do what they could to harry the enemy before rejoining the main body of the army in the morning.
Late in the night Somerset presented Arthur with the official casualty list.
‘Twenty-three killed, ninety wounded and ten missing at present, sir,’ Somerset read from his notes.
‘Good!’ Arthur responded with relief. Given the risks that had been taken, the cost had been light. Caught by the surprise crossing to the convent, Soult had panicked and abandoned the city, and much besides. So much for the myth of French invincibility, Arthur mused contentedly. ‘What of French losses?’