THE THIRD EVENING.
Upon the next evening that we met together I found my school-fellows waiting for me under the old tree, and taking my usual seat, I immediately began:—
“Many a gay meadow bedecked with daisies and buttercups stretches its verdant surface by the banks of the fair river Trent; and many a wood filled with merry birds lines its brink so closely that the pendent branches of the trees lave themselves in its transparent waters. It was upon the evening of a lovely day in spring, when every flower looked fresh and beautiful, and the early leaves of the forest shone in their brightest green tint, that a party of young men emerging upon one of these meadows from the surrounding woods, began to amuse themselves in the athletic exercises in which our forefathers so muchdelighted. Some of them struck slight branches into the earth, and placing a pole transversely upon them, leaped over it at nearly their own height from the ground. Presently a signal was given, and four or five youths bounded across the lawn with the speed of young stags, vieing with each other in the first attainment of the solitary elm that graced the centre of the meadow. High swelled the bosom of the victor as, breathless and panting, he received the reward of his achievement, perhaps a new scarlet cap, or a bright new girdle, and proud was he to know that the chief to whom he had sworn allegiance beheld and smiled approvingly on his success.
“But now a more important contest began. One of the foresters stood forward, and fixed up a target, the face of which was rudely painted in circles of various colours, a small white spot serving as a centre. A line was drawn at the distance of five hundred feet from this mark, near which about twenty bowmen took their station; one after another each stept up to it, bent his bow, and let fly an arrow with all the force he could command. Many shafts had flown far wide of the target, and some few had struck it nearthe side, when the turn arrived for a gaily-dressed archer to make his trial. Walking deliberately to the line, he very carefully placed his arrow upon the bow-string, raised it till it was on a level with his ear, and instantly discharged it. The quivering shaft sank deeply within two inches of the white centre.
“‘Bravely done, Will Scarlet,’ exclaimed a forester who stood apart from the rest, and who evidently controlled their movements; ‘thou’lt soon become as good a bowman as e’er trod the green-wood.’
“‘I do my best, good master,’ replied Will to Robin Hood, who had taken advantage of the cool evening, in order to exercise his men; ‘but here is one whom I fear I scarcely equal:’ and a bold forester, who was known to his companions by the cognomen of ‘Much, the Miller’s Son,’ stood forward, and drew his bow. The nicely-balanced arrow shot swift as lightning through the air, and pierced the very centre of the target. A loud huzza followed this achievement, and Robin Hood himself shouted louder than the rest. In a moment after all was hushed, for the tall forester, brave Little John, took the last turn, and his comrades, knowing well his dexterity,breathlessly awaited the result of the contest. After carefully selecting a well-feathered arrow, he stood erect as a young tree, drew back his bow-string with the strength of a giant, and suddenly let it slip. For a minute or two no one could tell where the arrow had gone; it was just possible to trace its flight as it whizzed through the air, but it was not to be seen on the target. Little John, smiling as he beheld the looks of surprise, ran swiftly across the intervening space, and, to their astonishment, drew forth his shaft from out of that of the miller’s, which it had struck, and cloven about half way down.
“Robin Hood and his followers shouted with rapture, and the victor bending upon one knee, received from his master, as a reward for his prowess, a beautiful arrow of silver.
“‘By my troth,’ said the outlaw, as he gave it to him, ‘I would ride a hundred miles, any day, to find an archer like thee.’
“‘Thou’st no need to go so far,’ cried Will Scarlet, rather envious of the better success of his companions. ‘There’s a friar in Fountains’ Dale that will bend a bow against him or thee, ay, or against all thy men.’
“‘I’ll neither eat nor drink till I find him,’ said the bold outlaw. ‘’Tis too late to seek him this evening, but ere I break my fast to-morrow I’ll see this valiant friar.’ And as he spake he drew an arrow from his quiver, and fixed it upon his bow-string.
“A young hart had innocently trotted forth from the shelter of the woods, and was making its way towards the brink of the river, when the noise of the foresters reached its ear. Startled at the sound, the creature turned its pretty head, gazed for a moment, and, frightened at the unaccustomed scene, bounded at full speed back towards the concealment of the forest. The outlaw’s keen eye had followed its motions, and wishing to display the superiority of his skill, he let fly an arrow at it while in its swiftest flight; the poor fawn immediately dropped, although the distance between it and the archer was, at the least, a quarter of a mile.
“‘Dost think the friar of Fountains’ Abbey will beat that?’ asked Robin Hood as he slackened his bow-string.
“‘Ay marry, that will he,’ replied Will Scarlet; ‘many’s the buck he has killed at half a mile.’
“‘I’ll never draw bow again,’ returned the chief, ‘ifa lazy friar once beats me in archery. What say ye, my friends, shall we find out this gallant priest?’
“‘Make him join us,’ cried several voices.
“‘To-morrow at earliest dawn be ready to attend me,’ said Robin Hood; and with Little John by his side, he left the meadow.
“The foresters then parted into groups and strolled away, some to the banks of the stream, others to the darkening woods, while a few, not yet content as to their inferiority, sought again to try their speed against the victors.
“Upon the next morning, ere the sun had risen above the horizon, Robin Hood started from his couch, and armed himself. He put on his helmet and breast-plate, he took up his good broadsword, his long tried buckler, and his trustiest bow, and then placing his bugle-horn to his lips, he played so loud aréveillethat his men, frightened from their slumbers, seized their nearest weapons, as if an army had appeared against them. A few gentler notes made them remember the appointed time, and soon fifty bold youths attended thesummons of their master. He bade them hasten to Fountains’ Dale by the shortest path, but on no account to show themselves till he had sounded three blasts upon his bugle; and with a light foot and merry heart he sprang into his horse’s saddle, and set out to encounter the renowned friar.
“This friar, whose fame was spread far and wide, had once been an inmate and one of the brethren of Fountains’ Abbey, but his irregular course of life and lawless pursuits had brought down upon him the wrath of the superior, and he had been expelled. Friar Tuck, so was he called, bore his disgrace boldly; he immediately retired to the forests, and there built himself a rude hut of the large stones with which the country abounded, thatching it with branches of trees. There he lived in solitude, gaining from the country people, who frequently came to him for religious consolation, a character of the greatest sanctity. The friar took care to turn this to his advantage, and many were the presents of butter, milk, and sometimes of a more enlivening liquid, that he received. But these did not constitute his chief means of livelihood; early in the morningthe friar had more than once been seen with a good long bow in his hand, and a quiver of arrows at his side, and a report had gone abroad that few could equal him in the use of this favourite weapon.
“The friar was a tall burly man, at least six feet high, with a broad expanded chest, and a muscular arm that the sturdiest blacksmith might have been proud of. He usually wore a dark mulberry coloured cloak that reached nearly to his ancles, and girded it with a black woollen rope, the two ends of which hung down before him, about half a yard in length. On the morning upon which Robin Hood had determined to discover him, from some unaccountable reason friar Tuck had put a steel cap upon his head, and a corslet upon his breast, and with his long oaken staff in his hand had rambled to the margin of the fair river Skell, where he stood gazing steadfastly upon the waves, as they rippled by. Presently he heard the sound of a horse’s step, and turning, he beheld within a few feet of him an armed horseman. The stranger quickly dismounted, and fastening his steed by his bridle, to the branch of a tree, advanced towards him.
“‘Art thou the Friar of Fountains’ Abbey?’ he asked, when each had regarded the other in silence for a short space.
“‘They that speak of me call me so,’ replied the priest; ‘why dost thou seek me?’
“‘Carry me over this stream, thou burly friar, and I will tell thee,’ replied Robin Hood. The priest, without a word, tucked up his garments to the waist, took the daring outlaw upon his back, and gravely waded across the stream. Robin Hood leaped off lightly upon the opposite bank.
“‘Now do thou carry me back, thou gay gallant,’ said the friar. The outlaw stooped, took him upon his shoulders, and with great difficulty bore his weighty burden across.
“‘Now by my faith thou’rt double the weight that I am,’ cried Robin Hood as the priest alighted, ‘and I’ll have two rides to thy one.’ The friar did not answer, but taking up the merry forester again, bore him to the middle of the stream, and bending down, pitched him headlong into the water.
“‘Choose thee, my fine fellow, whether thou’ltsink or swim!’ he said; ‘a morning bath will do thine health good.’ Robin Hood scrambled to the bank, fitted an arrow to his bow, and let it fly at the treacherous friar; but the wet had sodden both the bow-string and the feathers of the shaft, and it flew far wide. The priest not wishing to stand a second trial, flourished his staff and knocked the bow from the grasp of the forester, who quickly drew his sword and retaliated by severely wounding his vigorous opponent upon the shoulder. The friar at this grew wrathful, and returned a most terrible thwack upon the outlaw’s head. Blow followed upon blow; now the thick oaken staff beat down the less weighty but more deadly weapon, and again the sharp edge of the sword drank blood. They fought thus for more than an hour, and each began to weary of such warm work before breakfast.
“‘A boon, a boon,’ cried Robin Hood, retiring from the contest. ‘Give me leave to sound three blasts upon my bugle-horn.’
ROBIN HOOD & THE FRIARJ. Gilbert
ROBIN HOOD & THE FRIAR
J. Gilbert
“‘Blow till thy cheeks crack,’ returned the friar. ‘Think’st thou I fear a bugle blast?’ The outlaw sounded the horn thrice, so loudly that the friarclapped his hands to his ears, and beat a retreat for several yards. The signal was immediately returned, and apparently from close at hand. In two minutes more a tall yeoman leaped from the adjacent wood, and followed by fifty young foresters, with bows ready in their hands, ran to the side of their commander.
“‘Whose men are these?’ asked the friar, greatly surprised at this sudden reinforcement.
“‘They’re Robin Hood’s bold foresters,’ said the outlaw; ‘and I am Robin Hood. Wilt join our merry troop? Thou’rt the bravest friar that e’er wore cowl, and if thou canst let fly an arrow as well as thou canst wield a quarter-staff, thou’rt a match for my boldest man.’
“‘Let’s have a bout,’ said friar Tuck, unwilling to fight against such odds as were opposed to him. ‘If there’s an archer here that can beat me at the long-bow, I’ll be thy man. If I’m the best, swear that thou wilt leave me free in mine own woods.’
“‘Agreed!’ cried the outlaw. ‘Stand forth, brave Little John, and for the credit of Robin Hood choose thy truest shaft.’
“‘Ne’er fear me,’ replied the tall forester, as hecarelessly advanced. ‘Shoot on, my brave fellow, and at what mark you may, only for St. Hubert’s sake, let it be some five hundred feet or so from us.’
“‘Seest thou yon bird?’ said the friar, pointing to a hawk that, with fluttering wings, hovered at a considerable height above a neighbouring brake. ‘I will kill it. If thou canst strike it again ere it reaches the earth, I’ll say thou art a better man than friar Tuck.’ Drawing an arrow from his quiver, with apparent ease he shot the ill-fated bird, which instantly fell to the earth, but not before a second shaft had transfixed its body. A young forester darted away, and quickly returned with the prize, when it appeared that the friar’s arrow had pinioned the hawk’s wings to its sides, and that Little John’s had pierced through from its breast to its back.
“‘Well done, my brave archers,’ cried the outlaws’ chief; ‘there’s many a bowman in merry England would give his best weapon to shoot like ye. What says my gallant friar? will he keep his promise?’
‘What I have said, that will I do,’ replied the priest; ‘but first I must return to my hut, and possess myself of its valuable contents.’ Robin Hood offeredto accompany him, and dismissing his followers, he and the friar by turns rode upon the horse, first to the hut and then to the green woods of Sherwood.
“Robin Hood used frequently to disguise himself, and pay visits to the neighbouring villages, in order to learn if any thing were going on in which he might take a part. In one of these excursions, he overheard a conversation between two priests, by which he learned that the bishop of Hereford was expected to pass that way very shortly, upon a visit to his holy brother, the archbishop of York. The outlaw lost no time in ascertaining the route which the reverend father would travel, and with a merry heart he hurried back to his followers in Sherwood forest. At the sound of his well known bugle, two-score yeomen quickly surrounded him, Little John and Will Scarlet among them.
“‘We shall have noble company to dine with us,’ said Robin Hood. ‘Kill a good fat buck or two, and prepare a feast.’ Three or four foresters quickly darted away to execute this commission.
“‘Who may it be, master,’ asked Little John, ‘that loves to be merry under the green-wood tree?’
“‘Love or not love,’ cried the captain laughing, ‘a holy bishop dines with us to-day, though he brings a dozen companions with him. But ’tis time to meet his reverence. Do thou and Will Scarlet attend me, and thou too,—and thou,—and thou,’—he added, tapping with his bow the heads of three of his tallest followers, who most willingly and joyfully complied.
“The bishop of Hereford, as many bishops were in those days, was very rich, very avaricious, and exceedingly tyrannical. By the nobles he was regarded as a powerful prelate, and a support to the dignity of the church; but the people looked upon him with fear, as a proud, overbearing priest. Upon the occasion of his visit to his brother of York, the bishop of Hereford rode on horseback, dressed in the white robes of his sacred office; a massive gold chain was suspended round his neck, supporting a golden crucifix, and in his right hand he carried his crosier, of the same precious metal. His milk-white steed, also, was richly caparisoned with silken trappings. The dean of Hereford, attired in a plain black cassock,rode humbly by the side of his superior, who, from time to time, deigned to hold converse with him upon the vanities of this wicked world. Behind them, twenty horsemen, armed at all points, with broad-swords by their sides and lances in rest, followed slowly upon chargers of the jettest black, and three or four servants leading sumpter mules closed the rear. Notwithstanding all this pompous array, it was with many a misgiving that the bishop ventured to enter upon the dangerous road through Sherwood forest.
“‘Holy brother,’ said he to the dean, ‘dost thou think that the man called Robin Hood will dare to molest the Lord’s anointed, if perchance he should have heard of our journeying?’
“‘They say, reverend father,’ replied the dean, ‘that he holds the holy brethren of the church but cheaply, and pays but little respect to any of our cloth. I would that we had taken a more circuitous route, and avoided the paths of this wicked man.’
“‘It is too late to return now,’ said the bishop; ‘and have we not twenty armed men to support us in the hour of trial!—Comfort ye, my brother,—with thiswill I drive off the enemies of holy church;’ and as he spake he flourished his crosier above his head. They had proceeded but a short way farther, when they suddenly came upon six shepherds, dancing merrily round a fire, with which they were cooking venison, by the road-side.
“‘Ha!’ cried the bishop when he smelt the savoury odour that exhaled from the roasting flesh. ‘Dare ye, villains as ye are, slay the king’s deer, and cook it upon the open road? By St. Paul, ye shall answer for this.’
“‘Mercy! mercy! good bishop,’ cried one of the shepherds; ‘surely it beseemeth not thy holy office to take away the lives of so many innocent peasants.’
“‘Guards, seize these villains,’ cried the prelate, indignant at the presumption of the serf;—‘away with them to York,—they shall be strung on the highest gibbet in the city.’ The armed horsemen turned not over-willingly against the offenders, and endeavoured to seize them, but with a loud laugh they darted among the trees, where the steeds could not possibly follow. Presently the shepherd who had begged for mercy pulled from under his frock a littlebugle-horn, and blew a short call upon it. The bishop and his retinue started with affright, and had already begun to urge on their horses, when they found themselves surrounded on every side by archers, dressed in green, with bows drawn in their hands.
“‘Mercy! mercy!’ cried the bishop in great trepidation at the sight of fifty or more arrows ready to pierce him through. ‘Have mercy upon an unfortunate traveller.’
“‘Fear not, good father,’ replied Robin Hood, who was the shepherd that had before spoken; ‘we do but crave thy worshipful company to dine with us under the green-wood tree, and then, when thou hast paid the forest toll, thou shalt depart in safety;’ and, stepping into the road, the bold outlaw laid one hand upon the embossed bridle of the bishop’s steed, and held the stirrup with the other.
“‘Oh! that we had but gone the outer road,’ groaned the bishop to his holy brother; ‘we should have avoided these limbs of the evil one.’
“‘Nay, nay reverend father,’ cried Robin Hood, laughing at the poor bishop’s rueful countenance; ‘call us not by so bad a name. We do but take fromthe rich to administer to the necessities of the poor and if we do now and then slay a fat buck or two, our good king will never know his loss. But dismount, holy sir; and do ye, my friends, come likewise; right merry shall we be with such a jovial company.’ The horsemen quickly did as they were bidden, but the bishop most reluctantly unseated himself, and with many a deep sigh obeyed the injunction of the outlaw. Some of the foresters immediately seized the horses, and tied their bridles to the lower branches of the trees; but the sumpter mules were hurried away through the wood as quickly as the narrow foot-paths would allow.
“At Robin Hood’s command, two young fellows took the unwilling bishop between them upon their shoulders, and followed by the whole company, bore him to their favourite lawn. A solitary beech tree, whose arms, covered with thick foliage, extended far around, stood in the centre, affording a delightful shade from the bright summer sun. Robin Hood seated himself upon one of the twisted roots that grew above the surface of the turf, and commanded that his visitor should be brought before him. Little John,taking off his cap as he approached, gently led him to the outlaw, while, to show his spite against him, one of the young foresters had the audacity to tie the prelate’s arms behind his back.
“‘Thou art accused of deep crimes,’ exclaimed Robin Hood. ‘It is said that thou dost gripe the poor man with a hard hand, and showest but little mercy to the unfortunate. How answerest thou?’
“‘By what right, mean serf,’ replied the bishop, the blood rushing to his temples, ‘dost thou question an anointed servant of the church?’
“‘Pax vobiscum,’ cried friar Tuck, coming forward, and folding his arms in an attitude of defiance. ‘Wherefore not, good father? Answer boldly, and swear by St. Paul that thou ne’er robbed the fatherless and the widow.’
“‘What canting priest art thou?’ exclaimed the bishop. ‘For thine insolence thou shall be expelled the church; thy gown shall be stripped from thee, and thou shalt be branded as an impostor.’
“‘Save thyself the trouble,’ replied the friar, laughing. ‘The holy abbot of Fountains’ Dale has forestalled thee in thy kind intentions.’
“‘Hold,’ cried Robin Hood, rising from his seat, ‘we’ll have no more of these priestly quarrels. Reverend father, accompany us to our trysting tree, and we’ll drink to thy speedy amendment.’ Then cutting his bonds with a dagger, he took the hand of his unwilling guest, and led him to the spot where they usually partook of their repasts.
“Upon the grass was spread a large cloth, covered with viands. Smoking haunches of venison perfumed the air, and huge pasties baked in pewter vessels, roasted wild swans, peacocks, and a host of minor dishes, filled up any vacancies upon the cloth. At Robin Hood’s request, the bishop said grace, and fifty or more foresters quickly seated themselves to partake of this gallant feast. The prelate, for one in his situation, ate most heartily. His merry host no sooner saw that his platter was empty than he again filled it from the most savoury dishes. Wine flowed in abundance, and when, in obedience to Robin Hood, every man filled his goblet to the brim, and quaffed its contents to the health of the bishop of Hereford, the good father for some moments quite forgot his misfortunes, and strikinghis palm into the sinewy hand of Robin Hood, swore that he was a jovial fellow.
THE BISHOP OF HEREFORDJ. GilbertDay & Haghe lithographers to the Queen
THE BISHOP OF HEREFORD
J. Gilbert
Day & Haghe lithographers to the Queen
“Many a ballad was then trolled forth by the foresters, and in the excitement of the scene even the bishop ventured upon a stave; but, at the moment he had concluded the first verse, his eye caught sight of one of his mules, from whose back an outlaw was busily removing the trunk that contained his treasure.
“‘Bring me the reckoning, good host,’ said he meekly, stopping short in his song; ‘I would fain discharge it, and proceed upon my journey.’
“‘Lend me thy purse, good bishop,’ cried Little John, ‘and I will save thee the trouble.’
“‘Take it,’ replied the prelate, throwing a very light bag of money to the forester, ‘and give the surplus to the poor.’
“Little John opened the mouth of the purse, and emptied out ten golden nobles upon the grass. ‘And dost thou think,’ he exclaimed, laughing heartily at the owner’s rueful countenance,—‘dost thou think that a bishop pays no more toll than this? Verily, reverend father, the meanest farmer in Nottinghamshirereadily grants us so poor a trifle. Ho there!’ he cried to the man who was disburthening the mules, ‘bring hither yonder trunk.’ It was quickly brought, and with the help of a broadsword soon opened. Little John first pulled out a handsome cloak, which he spread upon the grass; a gown of the purest white lawn, an ermined robe, and a golden mitre, were each brought forth in succession, and greatly admired by the delighted foresters; but presently a clink of metal was heard, and the bold robber drew forth a beautiful ivory casket. The point of a dagger was in a moment applied to the fastening, and treasures invaluable were revealed. The bishop, who had sat shivering with anxiety during the search, now suddenly sprang to his feet with wonderful alacrity, and would have seized his precious wealth, had not Robin Hood caught him by the arm.
“‘Calm thyself, good father,’ said the outlaw; ‘do but fancy that thou art distributing this gold in alms to the poor, and thou wilt ne’er repent thee of thy charity.’ The bishop did not reply, but gazed steadfastly on the glittering coin, the sparkling jewels,and the holy beads, that Little John was exhibiting to his companions.
“‘Rouse ye, my merry men,’ cried the chief; ‘see ye not how sad ye have made our reverend guest!’ A young man quickly brought a rude harp, upon which he struck a lively air, and the gallant outlaw taking the bishop by the hand, led him forth, followed by the foresters in pairs. The dance commenced, and the poor prelate, unwilling to provoke his tormentors to extremities, joined in the nimble step, which was prolonged till his weary feet could no longer sustain their burden. The reverend father fell fairly to the earth from sheer exhaustion.
“At Robin Hood’s bidding, the two young men again took the bishop upon their shoulders, and bore him to the spot where his steed and those of his retinue were fastened. They placed him upon his saddle, with his face to the animal’s tail, and giving it him instead of the bridle, they pricked the creature with their daggers, and started it off at full gallop, the terrified rider clinging both with hands and knees to its back. The dean, the armed horsemen,and the servants were allowed to follow their superior in peace; but the sumpter mules and their burdens were detained as payment for the feast that had been given to their owners.”