D. John made a careful survey of the place from one of the high hills which dominated it, with Luis Quijada, the Knight Commander of Castille, and other renowned captains, and then ordered the batteries and trenches to be prepared for the assault. D. John personally inspected this work as Captain, General, and soldier, and, because it was necessary to go for the esparto grass of which the gabions were made to a distant hill, he went on foot in front of the soldiers to encourage them to work, and carried his load on his back like the rest, even to placing it in the trench. They began, as soon as it was light, to fire at the tower of the church with two big cannon, and in a few shots they opened a high, though small breach, through which to make the assault, and D. Pedro de Padilla, the Marqués de la Favara, and D. Alonso de Luzón entered with others of the courageous gentlemen who followed D. John with his people from simple love of him.
The artillery went on firing at some houses, seemingly of earth, which were beside the church; but when they tried a second assault, so great was the fury with which the Moors repulsed them, and so strong was the resistance these miserable hovels offered, that the Christians had to retire with great damage, leaving several gallant gentlemen who had clamoured to advance penned in. One of them was D. Juan de Pacheco, a knight of Santiago, who was dismembered limb by limb, on account of the rage which the red cross on his breast inspired in the Moors. He had only arrived at the camp two hours before, from his home, Talavera de la Reina, and without more than just kissing D. John's hand entered the fray where he met with his death.
D. John, nothing daunted by this defeat, ordered new mines to be laid and fresh batteries placed, and settled another assault for the 20th of January, which, from the mines exploding prematurely, ended in a second disaster. Both sides fought with great valour, and ensign D. Pedro Zapata succeeded in planting his flag on the enemy's wall with such boldness that, if the entrance had permitted others to help him, the town would have been gained that day; but the narrowness of the place prevented all help, and the Moors fell on him and threw him, badly wounded, down from the battery, still holding his flag, which he never let go, nor could anyone tear it from him, pull as they might. That day died more than 300 soldiers, among them many captains and men of worth, and more than 500 were wounded.