On the night of the ninth the British advanced guard reached the Vouga: after only a few hours’ repose the cavalry mounted again at 1 A.M., and pushed forward in order to fall upon the enemy at daybreak. The night march turned out a failure, as such enterprises often do in an unexplored country-side seamed with rocks and ravines. The rear of the cavalry column got astray and fell far behind the leading squadrons: much time was lost in marching and countermarching, and at dawn the brigade found itself still some way from Albergaria Nova, the village where Franceschi’s head quarters were established[409]. It was already five o’clock when they fell in with and drove back the French outlying pickets: shortly after they came upon the whole of Franceschi’s division, drawn out in battle array on a rough moor behind the village, with a few companies of infantry placed in a wood on their flank and their battery in front of their line. General Cotton saw that there was no chance of a surprise, and very wisely declined to attack a slightly superior force of all arms with the 1,000 sabres of his two regiments. He resolved to wait for the arrival of Richard Stewart’s infantry brigade, the leading part of the main column. When Franceschi advanced against him he refused to fight and drew back a little[410]. Thus some hours of the morning were wasted, till at last there arrived on the field Lane’s battery and a battalion of the 16th Portuguese, followed by the 29th and the 1st Battalion of Detachments. Like the cavalry, the infantry had been much delayed during the hours of darkness, mainly by the impossibility of getting the guns up the rocky defile beyond the Vouga, where several caissons had broken down in the roadway. It was only after daylight had come that they were extricated and got forward on to the upland where lies the village of Albergaria.
Wellesley himself came up along with Stewart’s brigade, and had the mortification of seeing all his scheme miscarry, owing to the tardiness of the arrival of his infantry. For at the very moment when Franceschi caught sight of the distant bayonets winding up the road, he hastily went to the rear, leaving the 1st Hussars alone in position as a rearguard. This regiment was charged by the 16th Light Dragoons, and driven in with some small loss. Under cover of this skirmish the French division got away in safety through the town of Oliveira de Azemis, which lay behind them, and after making two more ineffectual demonstrations of a desire to stand, fell back on the heights of Grijon, where Mermet’s infantry division was awaiting them.
The whole day’s fighting had been futile but spectacular. ‘I must note,’ says an eye-witness, ‘the beautiful effect of our engagement. It commenced about sunrise on one of the finest spring mornings possible, on an immense tract of heath, with a pine wood in rear of the enemy. So little was the slaughter, and so regular the manœuvring, that it all appeared more like a sham-fight on Wimbledon Common than an action in a foreign country[411].’ The picturesque side of the day’s work must have been small consolation to Wellesley, who thus saw the first stroke of his campaign foiled by the chances of a night march in a rugged country—a lesson which he took to heart, for he rarely, if ever again, attempted a surprise at dawn in an unexplored region.
An equal disappointment had taken place on the flank near the sea. Hill’s brigade had marched down to Aveiro, where the local authorities had worked with excellent zeal and collected a considerable number of boats, enough to carry 1,500 men at a trip. During the night of the ninth-tenth the flotilla was engaged in sailing up the long lagoon which leads to Ovar. It was quite early in the morning when the brigade came to land, and if Franceschi had been driven in at an early hour he would have found Hill in a most threatening position on his flank. But the French cavalry was still ten or twelve miles away, engaged in its bloodless demonstration against Cotton’s brigade. Finding from the peasants that there were French infantry encamped quite close to him, at Feira, and that the English main column was still at a distance, Hill kept his men within the walls of Ovar, instead of engaging in an attempt to intercept Franceschi’s retreat. He was probably quite right, as it would have been dangerous to thrust three battalions, without cavalry or guns, between Mermet’s troops at Feira and the retiring columns of the French horsemen. Hill therefore sent back his boats to bring up Cameron’s brigade from Aveiro, and remained quiet all the morning. At noon his pickets were driven in by French infantry: Mermet had at last heard of his arrival, and had sent out the three battalions of the 31st Léger from Feira to contain him and protect Franceschi’s flank. The voltigeur companies of this force pressed in upon Hill, but would not adventure themselves too far. The afternoon was spent in futile skirmishing, but at last the retreating French cavalry went by at a great pace, and the English Light Dragoons, following them in hot pursuit, came up with the 31st Léger. Hill, seeing himself once more in touch with his friends, now pushed out of Ovar in force, and pressed on the French voltigeur companies, which hastily retired, fell back on their regiment, and ultimately retired with it and rejoined Mermet’s main body on the heights above Grijon. The skirmishing had been almost bloodless—Hill lost not a single man, and the French infantry only half-a-dozen wounded[412].
On the morning of May 11, therefore, Hill’s troops on the left and Cotton’s and Paget’s on the right lay opposite the position which Mermet and Franceschi had taken up. Sherbrooke was still more than ten miles to the rear, having barely crossed the Vouga, while Cameron had not yet sailed up from Aveiro. Wellesley had therefore some 1,500 cavalry and 7,000 infantry under his hand, with which to assail the 1,200 horse and 4,200 foot of the two French divisions. The enemy were strongly posted: Grijon lies in a valley, with woods and orchards around it and a steep hillside at its back. The French tirailleurs held the village and the thickly-wooded slopes on each side of it: behind them the fifteen battalions of Mermet were partly visible among the trees on the sky-line of the heights.
Wellesley was anxious to see whether the enemy intended to hold his ground, or would retire before a demonstration: he therefore threw the light companies of Richard Stewart’s brigade into the woods on each side of Grijon. A furious fire at once broke out, and the advancing line of skirmishers could make no headway. Realizing that the French intended to fight a serious rearguard action, Wellesley refused to indulge them with a frontal attack and determined to turn both their flanks. While Cotton’s cavalry and the two English battalions of Stewart’s brigade drew up opposite their centre, Murray’s Germans marched off to the left, to get beyond Mermet’s flank, while Colonel Doyle, with the battalion of the 16th Portuguese which belonged to Stewart’s brigade, entered the woods on the extreme right. Hill’s brigade, a mile or two to the left of Murray, pushed forward on the Ovar-Oporto road, at a rate which would soon have brought them far beyond the enemy’s rear.
The meaning of these movements was not long hidden from the French: the 1st and 2nd battalions of the King’s German Legion, led by Brigadier Langwerth, were soon pressing upon their right flank, while the Portuguese battalion plunged into the woods on the other wing with great resolution. Wellesley himself was watching this part of the advance with much interest: it was the first time that he had sent his native allies into the firing line, and he was anxious to see how they would behave. They surpassed his expectations: the 16th was a good regiment, with a number of students of the University of Coimbra in its ranks. They plunged into the thickets without a moment’s hesitation, and in a few minutes the retiring sound of the musketry showed that they were making headway in the most promising style. This sight was an enormous relief to the Commander-in-chief: if the Portuguese could be trusted in line of battle, his task became immeasurably more easy. ‘You are in error in supposing that these troops will not fight,’ he wrote to a down-hearted correspondent: ‘one battalion has behaved remarkably well under my own eyes[413].’
Mermet and Franceschi did not hesitate for long, when they saw their flank guard beaten in upon either side, and heard that Hill was marching upon their rear. They gave orders for their whole line to retire without delay: the plateau behind them was so cut up with stone walls enclosing fields, that the cavalry could be of no use in covering the retreat, so Franceschi went to the rear first at a round trot. Mermet followed, leaving the three battalions of the 31st Léger to act as a rearguard[414].
The whole British line now pressed in as fast as was possible in the woods and lanes: the infantry could never overtake the enemy, but two squadrons of the 16th and 20th Light Dragoons, galloping along the high road, came up with Mermet’s rear a mile beyond the brow of the hill. Charles Stewart, who was leading them on, was one of those cavalry officers who thoroughly believe in their arm, and think that it can go anywhere and do anything. He at once ordered Major Blake of the 20th to charge the enemy, though the French were retiring along a narrow chaussée bordered with stone walls. Fortunately for the dragoons their opponents were already shaken in morale: the three battalions were not well together, isolated companies were still coming in from the flanks, and the colonel of the 31st had completely lost his head. On being charged, the rearguard fired a volley, which brought down the front files of the pursuing cavalry, but then wavered, broke, and began scrambling over the walls to escape out of the high road into the fields. There followed a confused mêlée, for the English dragoons also leaped the walls, and tried to follow the broken enemy among thickets and ploughland. Of those of the French who fled down the high road many were sabred, and a considerable number captured: indeed the eagle of the regiment was in considerable danger for some time. But the British had no supports at hand; they scattered in reckless pursuit of the men who had taken to the fields, and many were shot down when they had got entangled among trees and walls. However, the charge, if somewhat reckless, was on the whole successful: the dragoons lost no more than ten killed, one officer and thirty troopers wounded, with eight or ten missing, while the French regiment into which they had burst left behind it over 100 prisoners and nearly as many killed and wounded[415].
For the rest of the day Mermet and Franceschi continued to fall back before the advancing British, without making more than a momentary stand. At dusk they reached Villa Nova, the transpontine suburb of Oporto, which they evacuated during the night. The moment that they had crossed the bridge of boats Soult caused it to be blown up, and vainly believed himself secure, now that the broad and rapid Douro was rolling between him and his enemy. The total loss of the French in the day’s fighting had been about 250 men, of whom 100 were prisoners. That of the British was two officers and nineteen men killed, six officers and sixty-three men wounded, and sixteen men missing. Nearly half the casualties were in the ranks of the two squadrons of dragoons, the rest were divided between the light companies of the 1st Battalion of Detachments, the 1st and 2nd battalions of the German Legion, and the 16th Portuguese[416].