Greatest of all the musters, however, was that of
Twynham Castle, for the name and the fame of Sir Nigel Loring
drew towards him the keenest and boldest spirits, all eager to
serve under so valiant a leader. Archers from the New Forest and
the Forest of Bere, billmen from the pleasant country which is
watered by the Stour, the Avon, and the Itchen, young cavaliers
from the ancient Hampshire houses, all were pushing for
Christchurch to take service under the banner of the five
scarlet roses.
And now, could Sir Nigel have shown the bachelles of land which
the laws of rank required, he might well have cut his forked
pennon into a square banner, and taken such a following into the
field as would have supported the dignity of a banneret. But
poverty was heavy upon him, his land was scant, his coffers
empty, and the very castle which covered him the holding of
another. Sore was his heart when he saw rare bowmen and
war-hardened spearmen turned away from his gates, for the lack of
the money which might equip and pay them. Yet the letter which
Aylward had brought him gave him powers which he was not slow to
use.
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