ROBIN HOOD AND THE BISHOP OF HEREFORD.
“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 this will 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 little bugle-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 from the 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 striking his palm into the sinewy hand of Robin Hood, swore that he was a jovial fellow.
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 Nottinghamshire readily 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.”