And there to the south lay the target—Ceuta, with the thickness of the walls on the seaward side indicated by lines of tape. There was Mount Hacko, and Almina Point; and then the city itself, with its buildings marked by beans, and the lines of its streets etched in the sand.

This is the first time in history that we hear of the use of such a model in the planning of war. King John’s subtlety in devising a means for his spies to enter Ceuta had been paralleled by the inventiveness of the Prior of the Hospital of St. John.

The King and his sons gathered round. Prince Henry stared intently at the contour map as if he would engrave every feature of it on his memory.

“You see,” said the Prior, “the main anchorage lies to the west, the Bay of Ceuta itself. There is a good beach free of

rocks at this point, just at the eastern end of the city. On the other side of the peninsula to the east, round Desnaricado Point—where there is a fort—you see this second bay? Captain Furtado investigated that also. It is suitable for landing small boats and men.”

The Portuguese would be able to make a two-pronged attack from either side of the city, cutting it off from the fortress on Mount Hacko. The neck of the peninsula, where the two bays swirled in toward each other, was only about half a mile wide. If the landings were made simultaneously, their troops should be able to join forces quickly.

The King was smiling now. He paid a willing tribute to the skill of his two “ambassadors,” as the Prior went on to show him how the fertile land lay in a crescent at the back of the city—gardens and fields of sugar cane, lime and orange groves round the foot of Mount Musa, and crystal-clear springs forming the oasis. They could see where the caravan routes converged from east and west on the coast. They knew already that Ceuta was one of the finest fishing ports in the Mediterranean, and this alone was an inducement to a nation whose prosperity was largely dependent on the sea. There, at the meeting place of the Atlantic and Mediterranean, the sea was rich in fish. The tunny fishery of Ceuta was famous. (It was the Arabs who had first discovered how to catch these great fish, in nets laid out from the shore at the season when they close the coast to spawn—a method still practiced in the once Arab-dominated countries of Sicily and Spain.) Coral abounded off the headland, and the coral jewelry of Ceuta was one of its exports.

The King and his sons saw at once what the capture of Ceuta could mean to their country. As the Prior answered their questions, they were already planning the attack and dreaming of the spoils. Prince Henry remained silent with his arms folded across his chest, and absorbed the details of the relief map. This new method of accurately depicting the unknown shore and coastline fascinated him. If it is true that “to see the general in the particular is the very foundation of genius,” Prince Henry gave evidence of this ability all his life. The known shape of a headland, the accurately measured latitude of a bay—these were particulars from which he could deduce a Grand Design that was beyond the comprehension of other observers.

The means whereby their objective was kept secret could also have served as a model for any campaign in the succeeding centuries. The Queen, of course, had to be told, and her assent obtained for her sons’ and her husband’s participation in the venture. This in itself was not difficult. The daughter of the House of Lancaster made only the one request, that she should personally hand their swords to her sons before they embarked.

There was one other man who had to be let into the secret, and that was the Constable of Portugal, Nuno Alvares Pereira, the general under whose command the Portuguese forces had won their victory at Aljubarrota. Here again the King made use of a clever ruse. Had he sent for the Constable in audience at the palace, his councilors and courtiers would soon have guessed that something was in the wind—for, unless a war was contemplated, why should the King send for the head of his armed forces? Nuno Pereira was living in well-earned retirement on his estates, so the King and the three princes set out on a hunting expedition in Alentejo near Pereira’s home. What could be more natural than that one day the Constable should come out to meet them? The King and his military adviser met, and during a stroll under the shadowing cork trees of Montemor the project was broached. Pereira saw at once what the capture of Ceuta and the establishment of a Portuguese base in North Africa could mean to his country. He was enthusiastic.

Now, as the orders went out to the mint, to the shipwrights, to the armorers, the ropemakers and sailmakers, the victualers and ships’ chandlers, there began the most difficult operation of all—to conceal the destination of the expedition. That Portugal was preparing for war could no longer be disguised from anyone.