Thus he attacked Almada. He had but recently taken Palmella on the height overlooking the Tagus, and, hunting in the neighbourhood, had slain a boar and sent it as a present to the commander of Almada, promising to pay him a visit soon. He now set out to ride thither by night across the charneca, but they lost their way in the many paths, and the sun was up when Nun’ Alvarez, in his eagerness outriding his companions, advanced alone into the town. Four squires presently came up to his support, and Almada was taken without difficulty.
The Master of Avis had summoned Nun’ Alvarez to Lisbon or Nun’ Alvarez had determined to see the Master. From Palmella one night looking across the river he saw the whole city apparently in flames. Not knowing that the fires were lit by the King of Castille, whom plague in his camp had forced to raise the siege, and aware that the Master had powerful enemies within the walls, he watched the conflagration in dismay, but next morning the city reappeared in all its beauty.
The Spanish fleet remained in the Tagus, and a squire besought Nun’ Alvarez not to cross, saying that he had dreamt that the enemy had captured him as he passed through their fleet. Nun’ Alvarez went on his way, leaving the squire with his dream on the further shore. When he was in mid-stream, still perhaps thinking of the timid escudeiro, he bade his trumpets blow the enemy a challenge. But the Castilians little imagined what a prey was within their grasp, and his small boat passed through safely to Lisbon.
A little later he joined the Master of Avis at Torres Vedras and together they advanced to Coimbra, where the Master was crowned king as João I. His first act was to appoint Nun’ Alvarez his Constable.
At Oporto, whither he went to organise a fleet, Nun’ Alvarez found his wife and daughter, who had been prisoners of the Castilians for a time at Guimarães.
From Oporto he set out on a pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela. His purpose was threefold, “to serve God in pilgrimage,” to reduce Minho on the way, and to secure mounts for his men. But the River Minho was too swollen to cross, and the news that Braga was wavering thus came opportunely. Leaving Viana do Castello he turned east along the beautiful valley of the Lima and seized the little granite town of Ponte do Lima and Braga on its steep hill. The King had also come north, but the news that King Juan had crossed the Beira frontier and was advancing rapidly into the heart of Portugal brought them south again.
At Abrantes the King held a council. Many were of opinion that he should not advance further against the enemy. Nun’ Alvarez—the same Nuno who had ridden alone into two hundred and fifty of the enemy on the banks of the Tagus and advanced alone into Almada—thereupon set out with his men, and in the name of God and Saint George sent a challenge to the King of Castille. Each fresh success of Nun’ Alvarez had raised him envious backbiters in Portugal, and here was a new opportunity to accuse him of arrogance. King João silenced his accusers by following him to Thomar.
They then went west to Ourem and took up a position towards Leiria. The advance of the King of Castille caused them to turn the front of their battle towards the little village of Aljubarrota. The Portuguese, barely 5,000 strong, were outnumbered seven to one, but they were drawn up on foot in a small compact force and desperate, flight being practically cut off. On the right was the Ala dos Namorados, the lovers’ wing, pledged to yield no inch of ground; on the left fought a few hundred English archers, gens-d’armes Anglois si peu qu’il en y avoit, says Froissart.
The Spanish chronicler and poet, Pero Lopez de Ayala, and Nun’ Alvarez’ brother Diogo rode over before the battle and asked to speak with him alone, but succeeded neither in winning him to their side nor in casting suspicion on his loyalty. As he had said when fighting against his brothers earlier in Alentejo, for the land that gave him birth he would fight against his own father.
At nine o’clock on the morning of August 15, 1385, the battle began with a great hurling of stones, followed by fighting with the lance, and then at still closer quarters with axe and sword. Nun’ Alvarez was constantly where the fight raged most fiercely, and his words “Fight, Portuguese, fight for king and country” kept ringing out above the din. The flower of Castilian chivalry fell that day and many Portuguese nobles fighting for Castille. Nun’ Alvarez saw his brother the Master of Calatrava fall pierced by a lance, but was never able to find his body. The King of Castille fled to Santarem. The Convent of Alcobaça still preserves a huge cauldron taken from the enemy at Aljubarrota, but the noblest memorial of Nun’ Alvarez’ victory is the Church and Monastery of Batalha.