The seamen of the Basilisk, being from a free port, had the old
feud against the men of the Cinque Ports, who were looked upon by
the other mariners of England as being unduly favored by the King.
A ship of the West Country could scarce meet with one from the
Narrow Seas without blood flowing. Hence sprang sudden broils on
the quay side, when with yell and blow the Thomases and Grace
Dieus, Saint Leonard on their lips and murder in their hearts,
would fall upon the Basilisks. Then amid the whirl of cudgels and
the clash of knives would spring the tiger figure of the young
leader, lashing mercilessly to right and left like a tamer among
his wolves, until he had beaten them howling back to their work.
Upon the morning of the fourth day all was ready, and the ropes
being cast off the three little ships were warped down the harbor
by their own pinnaces until they were swallowed up in the swirling
folds of a Channel mist.
Though small in numbers, it was no mean force which Edward had
dispatched to succor the hard-pressed English garrisons in
Brittany. There was scarce a man among them who was not an old
soldier, and their leaders were men of note in council and in war.
Knolles flew his flag of the black raven aboard the Basilisk.
With him were Nigel and his own Squire John Hawthorn. Of his
hundred men, forty were Yorkshire Dalesmen and forty were men of
Lincoln, all noted archers, with old Wat of Carlisle, a grizzled
veteran of border warfare, to lead them.
Pages:
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301