This of course could not but have its effect upon the nomenclature of the time. It is well known that when Thomas à Beckett was murdered, almost every child born immediately afterwards was, if a boy, christened Thomas. To this tragedy myriads of Thompsons and Tomlinsons owe their surnames. The dictionary and the directory are under equal obligations to Robin Hood. There need be little doubt that Gough’s suggestion that his real name was “Robin o’ the Wood” (i.e. Sherwood) is true. The corruption “Hood” is perfectly natural.

(1.) Look at some of our place-names. In 1730 there was a “Robin Hood’s Well,” about three miles north of Doncaster; and Leland, the great itinerary, visited “Robyn Hudd’s Bay,” under which antique dress we recognise the familiar village and coast “Robin Hood’s Bay,” betwixt Whitby and Scarborough. Everybody has seen a Robin Hood’s oak, or a Robin Hood’s bower. At this moment there are hundreds of country inns in the north, called “Robin Hood,” with a picture of the bold archer in dress proper, or intended to be so, to the period in which he is supposed to have lived. His bow and arrow are of course always depicted, and occasionally a deer in the distance.

(2.) Look at the old English proverbs; and we may premise that if a man has created a proverb he has made himself immortal. “Good even, Robin Hood,” quoted by Skelton, poet-laureate to Henry VIII., implied “civility extorted by fear.” Fuller quotes, “Many men talk of Robin Hood that neere shott in his bow.” “To over-shoot Robin Hood,” is another proverbial saying. This is quoted by Sir Philip Sidney. “Tales of Robin Hood are good for fools,” is quoted by Camden. The most familiar, however, was “to sell Robin Hood’s pennyworths.” Fuller refers to this as of things half sold, half given; the great robber parting lightly with what he came by lightly. “Robin’s choice,” this or nothing, would seem almost to have suggested “Hobson’s choice,” for Hobson is a patronymic of Robert, Hob being the old familiar pet name for the same.

(3.) To Robin Hood, again, we doubtless owe the familiarity of several names applied to the spirit world. Our forefathers were very superstitious, especially the country peasantry. A belief in “brownies,” “dobbies,” “pixies,” and elves kindly or mischievous, still largely prevails in places removed from the busy towns. Superstitions of this kind die where men are herded together. It is only in dusky woodlands ghostly sights appear, or in the silences of the rural churchyard or forest avenue that voices are heard whose utterance is not from human throat! Certainly Robin Hood must stand sponsor for much of the dread that nurses infused into naughty children’s breasts. The pet names or nurses’ names of Robert were “Robin,” “Hob,” and “Dob.” The ignis fatuus, to this day an object of apprehension, was associated early with the bold freebooter:—

“Some call him Robin Goodfellow,
Hob-goblin, or mad Crisp.
And some againe doe terme him oft,
By name of Will the Wispe.”

So says an old ballad. Robin Goodfellow and Hob-goblin, it will be seen, represent the same name. Another title for the same was “Hob-lanthorn” (i.e. Robin’s lanthorn). Dr. Halliwell gives the term “Hob-thrush,” adding that it is always used in association with Robin Goodfellow. In the “Two Lancashire Lovers” (1640) it is said, “If he be no hob-thrush, nor no Robin Goodfellow, I could finde with all my heart to sip up a sillybub with him.” Here, then, are four names, “Robin Goodfellow,” “Hob-goblin,” “Hob-lanthorn,” “Hob-thrush;” all used to give personation to that curious light which occasionally may be seen in marshy and woody districts. How natural that these should be associated with that mysterious denizen of the forest, whose name was in everybody’s mouth, and who came and went, who showed himself here, there, and everywhere, and yet could never be caught!

“From elves, hobs, and fairies,
Defend us, good Heaven,”

say Beaumont and Fletcher in one of their plays. And every reader of Shakespear will remember how in “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” the Fairy addresses Puck as—

“That shrewd and knavish sprite
Called Robin Goodfellow:”

while by-and-by she adds:—