It was hoped that the Moorish defenders would flock to the western walls of the city when they saw the bulk of the fleet anchored there. In this way Prince Henry’s forces would be left practically unopposed to establish their beachhead and take the city in the rear.

Throughout the long summer night, as ship after ship came to anchor, Sala-ben-Sala ordered every window and embrasure to glow with lights to impress the enemy with his preparedness. Groups of men-at-arms appeared on the walls, shouting defiance at the assembled ships. The lights of the city lay mirrored in the calm water of the bay. The fleet winked back with the answering gleam of oil lamps and the flicker of torches. The groan of homs, the sonorous boom of time-keeping gongs aboard the oared galleys, and the shrill scream of whetstones as soldiers sharpened their swords, echoed across the water.

Silently Prince Henry’s force crept round Almina Point. They passed the bulk of Mount Hacko, looming up against the night sky, rounded Desnaricado Point, and came to anchor in the small bay.

Dawn came with a flicker over the warm sea. The night mist peeled away from the mountains, and the scent of the land drew out across the damp decks. The ships came alive like birds waking at the first light. They began to stir and rustle.

Shouting the names of friends, and whistling to attract their attention, the men began to prepare themselves for battle. Some were sharpening their weapons, others polishing their armor, and others checking rivet points on their leather doublets. Here a knight was being helped by his squire into his shining casque. There a group of men-at-arms aimed mock blows at each other. Others, recalling their sins, were making their confessions to the priests, “laying bare to God the great repentance which was in their hearts.” One man was trying the balance of a battle-ax, swinging it about his head to see if anything hindered him in his movements. The archers strung their bows, checked them to see that the damp air had not affected them, and fingered the goose feathers of their arrows. So the sun came up on the morning of the battle, and the landings began.

To Prince Henry’s profound annoyance, the first man ashore was Ruy Gongalves, a nobleman in the entourage of the Count of Barcellos. King John had promised Henry the honor of being the first man to set foot on infidel territory, and Henry had been waiting for his father’s signal. But at the sight of armed men landing on the beach, he could no longer restrain himself. He ordered the trumpeters to sound the charge, and leapt into a boat, followed by Prince Edward.

Suddenly the still morning was savaged by noise as the enemy came streaming down the beach to repel the invaders. Soon the clash of metal upon metal was joined by the sharp hiss of arrows and the groans of wounded. To the rattle of sand and stones, boat after boat came lifting over the waves to ground on the African shore.

As King John had foreseen, the bulk of the Moorish fighting men was on the western walls of the city. Against the armor, the swords, and the lances of Prince Henry’s men, these Moors were practically defenseless, opposing them with desperate showers of stones—but little more. Even so, they gave way slowly, some distinguishing themselves by a courage and violence that the contemporary Portuguese chronicler recorded with respect. “… and among all these Moors there was one, very tall and of a most threatening complexion, all naked, who used no other weapons than stones, but each of the stones that he threw seemed to be hurled by a catapult or cannon, such was the strength of his arm. And when the Moors were thrust back against the gate of the city, he turned toward the Christians, stooped, and threw a stone which struck Vasco Martins d’Al-bergaria and carried away the visor of his casque. The aspect of this Moor was such as to inspire terror, since all his body was black as a crow, and he had very long white teeth, and his lips, which were fleshy, were turned back. But Vasco Martins, despite the violence of the blow, did not lose countenance and did not fail to pay back the Moor, who had barely time to turn round when the lance of the Portuguese pierced him through.”

As soon as their champion fell, the spirit went out of the other defenders. They rushed back to the city, leaving the invaders to follow them. The Portuguese, with Prince Henry leading and Prince Edward close behind, were now at the Almina gate of the city. Before the defenders could close the vast, studded doors against them, they poured into the city.