by Roger Green
Lord Fitzwalter looked Guy of Gisborne up and down with approval, but Marian broke out:
‘No man of your choosing, father – unless he be my choice also. And my choice is and will ever be for brave Robin Hood!’
‘I’ll keep you in a dungeon and feed you on bread and water!’ thundered Lord Fitzwalter.
‘Robin will sack your castle to rescue me,’ said Marian gaily. Then suddenly serious, she exclaimed: ‘Father, you will let me go to the greenwood? You have my promise that I will return. And I promise also that Robin shall be nothing more to me than he is now, without your leave – or until King Richard return and give me to him in marriage with his own hand.’
Then, blowing a kiss to her father, and paying no attention whatsoever to Guy of Gisborne, Marian tripped gaily from the room and away into Sherwood Forest.
‘And now,’ said Lord Fitzwalter grimly, ‘it is for you to catch this outlaw and string him up to the highest gallows in Nottinghamshire. Until that is done, I fear there will be no use in your coming here to ask my daughter’s hand in marriage.’
Sir Guy rose and bowed to his host.
‘My lord,’ he said, ‘I am already on my way to Locksley Hall. The Sheriff’s men were to surround it last night, taking prisoner any who came in or out, and my followers do but await me at the Abbey. When I get there, it may well be to find Robin Hood already in their hands.’
But Robert Fitzooth had not been so unaware of the dangers into which his double life as Robin Hood was leading him as the Sheriff and Prince John had supposed. When he escaped from the chapel after the interrupted wedding, Robin and some twenty men at arms rode off into Sherwood Forest and continued on their way to within a mile or so of Locksley Hall. Here Robin halted and turning, spoke to his followers:
‘My friends, what I feared has befallen me. You all heard the mandate of outlawry read against me – and some of you may have incurred danger of the same by withstanding those men sent against me under Sir Guy of Gisborne. Well now, you may choose for yourselves: I set you all free from my service – but indeed as I am an outlaw, that sets you free whether I will or not. If you did not all know it already, you know now that I am that Robin Hood who, for several years now, has befriended all such as suffer under the cruelty and unjustness of lords, barons, bishops, abbots, and sheriffs. I have already a band of men sworn to follow me who await me in the greenwood: we are all comrades and brothers, though me they have chosen to be their leader and their king – not because I am by right an Earl, not merely because I have the gift of a steady hand and a clear eye and so can shoot an arrow further and straighter than most men, but because one must rule and I come of a race of rulers (though we are but slaves now to our Norman masters). I am no more Robert Fitzooth, Earl of Huntingdon, but the plain yeoman of Locksley whom men call Robin Hood: but my friends in Sherwood have chosen me king, and a king in Sherwood I shall be, my first care for my followers, but our first care for justice and mercy and the Love of God. And in this I hold that we commit no treason: when Richard comes home from the Crusade this reign of terror and of evil against which I fight will end. Cruel, lawless John will oppress us no longer, nor his friends and followers use us without right or justice, as slaves and not as free men.
‘Choose now, will you follow me into Sherwood, all such of you as have neither wife nor child – or, as you blamelessly may, go back to serve the new master of Locksley. Only, for the love and service that was between us, I charge you to betray neither me nor any who were your companions and are now mine.’
Then most of the men at arms cried aloud that they would follow Robin Hood through weal and woe, and all swore that they would die rather than betray him. Some then turned and with bent heads rode off towards Locksley – drawn thither by wife or child – and swore reluctantly to serve Sir Guy of Gisborne so long as he might be the master of Locksley.
‘And now,’ said Robin to those who remained with him, ‘let us away to our new home in the forest and see how many of us there be who stand loyally together for God, for His anointed servant Richard, King by right divine, and for justice and the righting of wrongs.’
Deep in the heart of Sherwood Forest, as the sun was setting behind them, Robin and his men came to a great glade where stood the greatest of all the forest oaks upon a stretch of open greensward with steep banks fencing it on either hand in which were caves both deep and dry. At either end of the shallow valley, and beyond the banks on each side, the forest hedged them in with its mighty trees, with oak and ash, with beech and elm and chestnut, and also with thick clumps of impassable thorns, with desolate marshes where an unwary step might catch a man or a horse and drag him down into the dark quagmire, and with brambles rising like high dykes and knolls through which even a man in armour could scarcely force his way.
For the last mile Robin led by narrow, winding paths, pointing out to his companions the secret, hidden signs by which they could find their way.
Once in the glade, Robin took the horn from his belt and blew on it a blast which echoed away and away into the distance. Already men dressed smartly in doublet and hose of Lincoln green, in hoods of green or russet and in knee-boots of soft brown leather, had come out from the caves to greet them.
At a few brief words, they set about lighting two great fires near the oak tree in the glade, and roasting great joints of venison before them. They also brought coarse loaves of brown bread, and rolled out two barrels of ale, setting up rough trestle tables with logs in lieu of stools.
As the darkness grew, men kept appearing silently in the glade and taking their place by the fires or at the tables until a company of fifty or sixty was gathered together.
Then Robin Hood rose up and addressed them. He began by telling them, as he had told the men at arms, of his banishment, and reminding them that they were outlaws, but not robbers.
‘We must take the King’s deer,’ he ended, ‘since we must eat to live. But when the King returns I myself will beg pardon at his feet for this trespass. And now you shall all swear the oath which I swear with you, and all seeking to join us must swear also. We declare war upon all of those thieves, robbers, extortioners and men of evil whom we find among the nobles, the clergy, and burgesses of town – in particular those who follow or accompany Prince John; false abbots, monks, bishops and archbishops, whom we will beat and bind like sheaves of corn so that they may yield the golden grain of their robberies – the Abbots of St Mary’s, Doncaster, and Fountains shall we seek for in particular; and I think we shall keep within our oath if we make it our especial care to harry and persecute the false Sheriff of Nottingham who so wickedly abuses his power to please and satisfy his master Prince John.
‘Now, my friends, we do not take from these and their kind to enrich ourselves. We take for the general good, and it shall be as much our duty to seek out the poor, the needy, the widow, the orphan and all those who have suffered or are suffering wrong, and minister to their wants in so far as we can.
‘We shall swear, moreover, to harm no woman, be she Norman or Saxon, high or low, but to succour and assist any who crave our aid or need our protection, dealing with them with all honesty and purity, seeing in every woman the likeness of Our Lady the Holy Mary, Mother of Christ, in whose name we take our oath, and by whose name we dedicate ourselves to the service of the true Church, and to whom we pray to intercede for us before the throne of God that we may have strength to keep this our oath in the face of all temptations.’
Then, in that wild and lonely glade, while the owls screamed over the dark forest, and an occasional wolf howled in the distance, they all knelt down together and swore their oath – a pledge as high and as sacred, though they were but outlaws and escaped felons, as that sworn by the noblest knight who, in the days when the Saxons themselves were the conquerors and oppressors, had sat at King Arthur’s Table.
4
The Rescue of Will Scarlet
And these will strike for England
And man and maid be free<
br />
To foil and spoil the tyrant
Beneath the greenwood tree.
TENNYSON: The Foresters (1881)
Early the next morning after he had gathered his band in Sherwood Forest and sworn his great oath with them, Robin Hood sent Will Scarlet and Much, the Miller’s son, to see what had happened at Locksley Hall.
Walking briskly through the forest, by many winding paths, all of which were known to Scarlet, they came to the edge of the open parkland in the middle of which stood the grey stone house with its square tower at one corner made for defence.
The morning sun glittered now on the armour and weapons of the Sheriff’s men who stood guard both on the tower top and at the great door of the hall itself, while outside stood a crowd of poorer people amongst whom Scarlet recognized most of those who had been tenants or serfs under the Fitzooth family, or personal servants at the Hall.
‘Now,’ said Scarlet, when they had watched for some time, ‘I think that, without undue danger, I might mingle with those who were my fellows, and perhaps even do my late master a good service. But do you wait here – for you are in danger if any of the Sheriff’s men see you.’
So saying, Will Scarlet laid down his bow and arrows beside Much, tightened his belt, drew his hood forward so as to shadow his face, and walked quietly out from among the trees.
He was greeted in subdued voices by one or two of the yeomen who stood around the door, and soon learnt from them that the Sheriff and his men were inside, taking possession of the place in the name of Prince John and deciding which of Robin’s tenants were still to hold their lands.
‘Those who can pay out a good round sum as a present to Prince John,’ an old yeoman informed Scarlet, ‘may well become tenants to our new master – and better still if they can give the Sheriff a gift also – not forgetting Steward Worman who has his ear in these matters.’
‘Well,’ said Scarlet, ‘I have no desire to serve any but our true liege lord King Richard – and under him, Fitzooth of Locksley, or none! But now I bethink me, I have the hard savings of twenty years’ service: surely these new masters would not rob us of our savings?’
‘All but a tithe we may take away, good Scathlock,’ an old man who had been William Fitzooth’s groom told him. ‘That tenth part they take as a fine for our faithful service to our true masters: may all the saints bless good Earl Robert, and bring him back to his rightful inheritance!’
‘Amen!’ said Will Scarlet, and strode quietly into the house, along the side of the great hall, and so away to the little garret room which had been his. Taking from his pouch a large key, he unlocked a wooden chest which stood there, and from beneath a pile of clothes drew out two leather bags – one large and the other small. The large one he packed carefully with some of the clothes into a bundle; the small one he placed in the pouch from which he had taken the key.
Then he walked quietly down the little stone stair in the Hall, and strove to slip away as unnoticed as he had come. He might have succeeded in this, for no one appeared to be keeping watch at the door, if he had not had the misfortune to come out into the sunshine just as Sir Guy of Gisborne and his small band of armed men arrived from Fountains Abbey.
‘Ah-ha!’ said Sir Guy. ‘What have we here?’
‘So please you, my lord,’ answered Scarlet humbly, ‘I was a servant here for twenty years, and now that my late master is outlawed, I go forth to seek my fortune elsewhere.’
‘Well, if you will not stay to serve me, the new master of Locksley,’ said Sir Guy, ‘I will certainly not strive to keep you against your will. But what have you there?’
‘No more than my humble possessions,’ replied Scarlet. ‘This bundle of clothes, with iron cap and hood of chain mail; and here in my pouch ten gold nobles, all that I have saved these many years against my old age.’
‘Oh, pass, pass!’ cried Sir Guy impatiently. ‘Our quarrel is with Robin Hood the outlaw, not with those who served him as Robert Fitzooth – though I dare say most of them knew of his treason.’
‘Thank you, my lord,’ said Scarlet, and slinging the bundle over his shoulder, he strode away towards the bushes behind which Much was hiding.
But at that moment, hearing the sounds made by Guy and his followers, Worman the false steward came out of the house, and saw Scarlet making off with the bundle over his back.
‘Stop that man!’ he cried. ‘We have not searched his possessions – nor has he paid his tithe by way of fine.’
‘You do the fellow wrong,’ said Sir Guy haughtily. ‘The goods are his: only those of Earl Robert are forfeit.’
‘Of the traitor Robin Hood!’ shouted Worman excitedly. ‘Yes! Well, how know we that this fellow is not making off with some of his master’s possessions? There should be a bag of gold, got from the sale of land, and jewels worth much gold, neither of which have we found.’
‘That alters the case, certainly,’ said Sir Guy, and turning round, he bade two of his mounted followers ride after Scarlet and bring him back.
Scarlet was near the bushes by this time – but he had heard what was happening, since Worman had been shouting in his anger and eagerness. Springing into cover, he flung down the bundle, tore it open and snatched out the bag of money and jewels.
‘Much!’ he hissed. ‘Guard that with your life, and take it to Robin Hood. Say that to save it from his enemies was my last service. Quick! There is no escape for me: Worman will recognize me at once. Do not answer, run – hide!’
While he spoke, Scarlet was fastening the bundle again. Now he glanced back through the bushes:
‘No time to run!’ he muttered to Much. ‘Here! Into that hollow tree! Now, silence whatever happens!’
Much scrambled hastily up an elm-stump and tumbled with his bag of treasure into the hollow trunk – where he found himself in a nest of young owls.
He was only just in time, and Scarlet had not walked more than a dozen paces deeper into the forest when the horsemen broke through the bushes, shouting:
‘Stand, there! Stand!’
Scarlet turned round, and stared in surprise at the men.
‘What would you with me, sirs?’ he asked.
‘Sir Guy would speak with you again,’ he was told, and a moment later found himself led back towards the house between the two horses.
‘What would you with me, my lord?’ he asked humbly of Sir Guy – keeping his face hidden as much as possible from Worman as he spoke.
‘Search that bundle!’ commanded Sir Guy briefly. ‘And the fellow’s clothes.’
‘There are but garments, and an iron head piece and a chain-mail hood,’ protested Scarlet. ‘And on me but the bag with my savings – my ten nobles, hardly earned these twenty years and more.’
‘If you speak truth, no harm will befall you,’ said Sir Guy.
‘It is even as he says,’ declared one of the men, spreading Scarlet’s possessions out on the ground. ‘Old garments, and this head-armour.’
‘Yes, but what has the knave under his cloak,’ began Worman, and with a sudden movement he pulled off both cloak and hood.
‘Only my ten golden nobles,’ began Scarlet, holding out the little bag from his pouch to Sir Guy.
But Worman had seen his face.
‘It is Will Scathlock!’ he cried. ‘Seize him – he is a traitor! – And he can lead us to the arch-traitor his master, Robin Hood!’
Scarlet’s hand flew to the long knife at his belt, but he was surrounded by Sir Guy’s men, and two of them had him by the arms before ever the blade left the sheath.
‘String him up from the tower top –’ began Sir Guy, but Worman interposed quickly:
‘Not so, my lord, let him before the Sheriff. And then away with him to Nottingham. Let him hang there tomorrow in the market square as a warning to all traitors – and in especial to all who would follow or protect Robin Hood. But before that, let us see if any persuasions will make him lead us to his master’s hiding place… There are dungeons at Nottingham, and in them
irons that can be heated and the rack that will pull many a truth out of a stubborn man.’
‘I am no traitor,’ said Will Scarlet in clear, ringing tones. ‘But you, Worman – you, the false Steward who grew fat upon your master’s kindness, and then betrayed him – be you ware of the vengeance which just and honourable men will be waiting to bring upon you… As for your irons and racks, you may spare them: Robin Hood ranges in Sherwood Forest – I can tell no more, nor would I if I could.’
After this Scarlet was led away into the Hall for some semblance of a trial before the Sheriff. Then, heavily guarded, he was taken to Nottingham and chained there in a dungeon.
Much the Miller’s son missed his way several times as he threaded the narrow paths in the heart of the forest. But it was not long after noon when at last he found himself in the glade by the great tree and poured out his news to Robin Hood, after handing him the bag of gold and jewels for which Scarlet had risked so much.
When Robin heard all that had happened, he was sorely grieved.
‘He must be rescued!’ he cried, ‘or I myself will die with him!’
‘A rescue! A rescue!’ shouted the outlaws who had gathered to hear Much’s story. ‘Let us march to Nottingham, take the place by storm and hang the Sheriff on his own gallows, with Worman beside him!’
‘I would willingly hang Worman,’ said Robin savagely. ‘But the Sheriff does only his duty in this matter – and obeys his master Prince John… Also at the first hint of an attack they would withdraw into the castle, hang Will Scarlet before our eyes, and laugh to scorn our attempts at a siege. No, no – force cannot save him, but guile may… Come now, you, William of Goldsbrough: you served the Sheriff once, doubtless you still know all those in office – jailors, beadles, and the very hangman?’
Later that afternoon William of Goldsbrough set out alone towards Nottingham dressed in the rough leather jerkin and faded hood and hose of a man back from the wars and in search of a job.
