ROBIN HOOD IN FINSBURY FIELD.
“In the time of Henry the Second, and for many years afterwards, until the use of gunpowder was known, the science of archery was greatly encouraged in England among all ranks and classes; and even the good citizens of London constantly exercised their bows in ‘Finsburie fielde.’
“The feast of St. Bartholomew was particularly celebrated by games of this kind: a finely wrought bow or a golden arrow was given as a prize to the best marksman, and the presence of the king and his court contributed not a little to add interest to the long looked-for contests.
“One year, towards the close of King Henry’s reign, proclamation was as usual made, that the ‘royal games of archery’ would be held in Finsbury field, upon St. Bartholomew’s day. Queen Eleanor was passionately fond of the sport, and rarely missed an opportunity of witnessing the superior skill displayed by the royal archers. She had heard much of Robin Hood, but had never seen that gallant outlaw; and as the fame of his rencontre with the bishop of Hereford had spread far and wide, she felt a secret desire to behold so daring and so celebrated a man. Summoning a young page who waited her commands, she gave him a beautiful golden ring, and bade him hasten with all speed to Sherwood forest, and deliver it to the forester, with her request that he would come to London and take a part in the approaching games. The youth lost no time in executing his mistress’ command, and in two days arrived at Nottingham, where, from a good yeoman, he learned the dwelling-place of Robin Hood, and on the next morning he appeared before the bold outlaw. Falling gracefully upon one knee, he doffed his cap, and presented the ring to him, saying,—‘My royal and most gracious mistress, Eleanor, queen of England, greets thee well. She bids thee haste with all speed to fair London court, that thou may’st be her champion in the sports upon the feast of St. Bartholomew, in token whereof accept this ring.’
“The outlaw took the royal present, and placed it upon his finger. ‘Rise, my pretty page,’ he said; ‘wend thou back upon the fleetest steed that thou canst find. Deliver this arrow to Queen Eleanor, and say that Robin Hood will claim it ere three suns have set.’ The young page rose, placed the arrow in his belt, and with much courtesy bade the outlaw adieu; then hastening to his inn at Nottingham, he chose the swiftest horse in the stables, and flew back again to his royal mistress.
“Early in the morning of St. Bartholomew’s day, Finsbury field presented a gay and most enlivening scene. The large open space, which then existed where streets and squares are now crowded together, was covered with the good citizens of London and their wives and daughters, bedecked in their newest holiday costume. Lists, three hundred yards in length, were marked out in the centre of the field, and railed round, to prevent the entrance of the spectators. At one end a scaffold was erected for the accommodation of the king and queen and their attendants; it was hung with green silk, emblazoned with the royal arms in gold, and covered over with a beautiful bright blue cloth, spangled with silver stars. Near it were tents pitched for the use of the contending bowmen, and immediately opposite, at the far end of the lists, a broad target was placed, with a large wooden screen behind it, to stop the flight of any stray arrows that did not hit the mark. All were in busy expectation,—for the royal party had not yet arrived,—and many were the wagers laid upon the favourite archers of Finsbury. At length a blast of trumpets was heard, and two heralds, dressed in glittering coats of golden tissue, with emblazoned banners hanging from their spirit-stirring instruments, entered the ground. The king, mounted on a barbed charger, and the queen upon a milk-white palfrey, both magnificently caparisoned, then appeared, amid the waving of caps, and the deafening acclamations of the assembled thousands. Next followed, upon steeds of the purest white, a bevy of fair ladies in attendance upon their royal mistress; and a band of knights and gentlemen, well mounted and richly dressed, closed the procession.
“As soon as the royal party had alighted, and had taken their seats upon the gallery, proclamation was made by sound of trumpet, that a tun of the best Rhenish wine, and a hundred of the fattest harts that ran in ‘Dallom Chase,’ would be given to the truest marksman. The archers were then ordered to advance to their posts, and a line was drawn upon which they were to step when they discharged their arrows. Six bowmen appeared, wearing the king’s livery, and marching to the gallery, they doffed their caps to their royal master, and took their appointed station.
“‘Is there no one,’ asked King Henry aloud,—‘is there no bold forester to oppose my gallant archers?’
“‘A boon, my liege,—a boon,’—cried Queen Eleanor. ‘Promise me by the saint whose feast we celebrate, that whoever draws bow on my side shall depart uninjured and free for forty days.’
“‘I grant thy boon, fair Eleanor,’ replied the king; ‘but who are these gallant bowmen that require thine intercession?’
“‘Bid the heralds sound again,’ said Eleanor, ‘and thou shalt see them.’ The trumpets again played, and the challenge from the king’s archers was repeated.
“‘The queen waved a light green scarf, and six tall yeomen entered the lists, and advancing to the gallery, bowed lowly to their royal patroness. One of them, evidently the commander of the little band, was clothed in a rich scarlet doublet and trunk hose of the same bright colour; a baldric of light blue silk, interwoven with threads of gold, crossed his shoulder, supporting his quiver and a small golden bugle, and in his hand he carried a most beautifully wrought bow. His companions were dressed in the favourite Lincoln green, and like their commander, each wore a black bonnet with a white streaming feather.
“‘Welcome, good Locksley,’ said the queen, addressing the yeoman in scarlet. ‘Thou must draw thy best bow for Queen Eleanor;’ then turning to the noblemen around her, ‘Who will support our brave party?’ she asked. ‘My good lord bishop of Hereford, wilt thou not in gallantry be on our side?’
“‘Thou hast six of the best archers of Finsbury to contend against, gracious madam,’ replied the prelate, ‘and thy men are all strangers; we know not if they can draw a bow-string.’
“‘Will your grace wager against us?’ asked Locksley of the bishop.
“‘Aye! by my mitre, willingly,’ returned the bishop rather warmly; ‘I’ll wager a purse of gold against thee and thy whole band;’ and he drew forth about fifty golden nobles. Locksley replied by throwing upon the turf before the gallery a little bag containing at least an equal quantity of the precious metal, and both stakes were given to the king as umpire of the sport.
“The royal archers now took their station upon the line, and one after another let fly an arrow at the broad target. ‘Why give us such a mark as that?’ cried one of them, named Clifton, as his arrow pierced the centre. ‘We’ll shoot at the sun and moon. ‘Boldly said, my fine fellow,’ replied Locksley as he drew his bow-string; ‘you and I will have a bout together presently:’ and carelessly discharging his arrow, it quivered within a hair’s breadth of his opponent’s. The spectators pleased at such fine archery, shouted at the sight, but the king and the bishop of Hereford could ill conceal their surprise and disappointment. Locksley’s men followed, and each one’s arrow alighted within a few inches of the centre of the target, but so had those of the royal archers.
“‘The game is equal,’ said the king, when he had mounted his horse and galloped across the field; ‘ye must shoot again, my brave men. Finsbury has ne’er before seen such archery as this.’
“‘If my gallant friend here,’ cried Locksley, ‘who aims at nothing less than bringing down yon glorious sun, will but agree to the trial, he and I might decide this contest between ourselves. That is,’ he continued, ‘with your majesty’s royal leave.’
“‘What say’st thou, Clifton? art thou content to stake thy reputation against this braggart’s?’ asked King Henry.
“‘Right willingly, my liege,’ replied the archer; ‘I’ll lay my own trusty bow against his, that he hits not the mark that I do.’
‘A fair wager,’ cried Locksley, ‘which I readily accept.’
“At the instigation of the champions the broad target was removed, and in its place, a slight willow wand, not above an inch and a half in circumference, was planted firmly in the earth. The spectators gazed with increased wonder. ‘They surely will not aim at such a mark as that,’ said they one to another. But the royal bowman stepped to the line, and after carefully adjusting his arrow, let it fly: it peeled off the bark of the wand as it passed by, and alighted in the earth a few yards farther on. A loud huzza rent the air, and ‘Clifton! a Clifton!’ was shouted from one end of the lists to the other. The gay yeoman did not wait till these cries had subsided. ‘I will notch his shaft,’ he said aloud as he advanced composedly to his post; and fitting his arrow, he drew the bow-string to his ear, and after one moment’s deliberation discharged the weapon with his utmost force. The shaft flew true, and to the amazement of the beholders, rived asunder that of his opponent. At first a deep silence prevailed, many could not see where the arrow had struck, and some were dumb with astonishment; but when one of the attendants pulled it forth, a shout of applause was raised, so loud, so long, and so vehement, that those of the good citizens of London who had remained at home rushed forth from the gates in hundreds to inquire the cause of so violent an outbreak.
“The king’s vexation at this defeat of his party quickly changed into admiration of Locksley’s superior skill. He rode up to his side: ‘Wilt thou be one of my archers?’ he asked; ‘a hundred pounds a year, the free use of my pantry, and a new suit of livery each three months, shall be thy reward.’
“‘It grieves me, my liege,’ replied the yeoman, ‘that I cannot comply with thy request; but grant me one boon, and I and my gallant men will support thee to our deaths.’
“‘Name it, good Locksley; ’tis already granted;’ said the king.
“‘Pardon, most gracious liege, pardon for the outlawed Robin Hood and his brave followers.’
“‘And art thou Robin Hood?’ asked Henry, his countenance flushed with anger, ‘whose defiance of the law has filled the whole north country with alarm. By St. George, but thou art the boldest villain that e’er shot bow. Ho! guards there, take charge of this over-valiant knave.’
“‘Remember thy promise,’ cried a gentle voice from the gallery. ‘Remember thou hast pledged thine honour.
“King Henry turned as he recognised the sweet tones of his lovely consort, and a smile played upon his lips as he replied, ‘’Twas but in jest, fair Eleanor, ’twas but in jest.’ ‘We will willingly grant pardon to thee and thy followers,’ he continued to the outlaw, ‘if ye will forsake your unlawful pursuits, and lead the sober lives of honest yeomen.’
“‘We cannot quit the green woods of Sherwood,’ said Robin Hood; ‘but if your majesty will grant us leave to range the forest, and now and then exercise our archery upon one of the thousands of fat deer that bound so gaily o’er the lawns, we will promise that no traveller shall again complain of the outlaws of Nottinghamshire.’
“The king bit his lips in silence, but at that moment the defeated archer advanced and tendered his bow to the victor.
“‘Thou’rt a good marksman, Clifton,’ said he; ‘if thou hadst made a little more allowance for the distance, thine arrow would not have passed the wand; keep thy bow, man; though I tell it thee, there’s but one better archer in merry England.’
“‘If I had known that thou wert Robin Hood,’ cried the bishop of Hereford, as the king delivered the well-filled purses to the outlaw, ‘I would not have wagered against thee. Thou hast already had more gold of mine than I e’er intended.’
“‘Surely thou dost not forget the jovial dinner we gave thee under our trysting tree,’ replied Robin Hood; ‘yet if thou dost begrudge the payment, I will return it even now.’
“‘Nay, nay, master,’ cried Little John, who had accompanied his captain, ‘that were unwise; since thou hast promised not to relieve travellers of their superfluous wealth, ’twere folly not to keep all the gold thou comest honestly by.’ Robin Hood with a smile threw the purses to his more considerate follower, bowed low to the king, and still lower to his fair patroness, and accompanied by his five gay yeomen, departed from the field.
“Sherwood forest soon rung again with the sound of his bugle-horn, but the promise given on Finsbury field was kept during King Henry’s life-time; no traveller had reason to complain of the bold outlaws.