William Shakespeare as He Lived: An Historical Tale

by Henry Curling

Whilst he regarded the ill-favoured trio they descended from the overhanging bank into the road, where they were joined by a fourth person, who stole from the covert on the other side, and for some minutes remained in conversation with them. The situation was not without its interest, albeit it was fraught with danger to Shakespeare. He had, indeed, unconsciously intruded himself into the trysting place of a band of robbers, and, as he rose to his feet and removed somewhat behind the tree, he watched them narrowly.

They were evidently laying in wait for passengers, as he more than once observed one of the party throw himself flat upon the road, with his ear to the ground, in order to listen for the tread of hoofs. To remain behind the oak (whose antique root peeped out upon the overhanging bank) would have been dangerous. Still, as he resolved closely to watch these men, he cautiously withdrew into the deeper cover of the trees. As he did so his head struck against some obstacle pendant from one of the boughs, and, as he raised his eyes, he beheld the dead body of a man suspended, a ghastly object thus seen in the gloom, and which sufficiently shewed the evil nature of the neighbourhood. He had, in fact, reached a spot called the "Crooked Wood," a part of the road at that period famous for robbery and murder, and the bodies of several malefactors were hung in terrorem.

Shuddering at the sight, he withdrew from the vicinity of this object, which swinging backwards and forwards looked yet more horrible in the deep gloom. The next moment he heard the distant sound of hoofs upon the rood, and at the same time observed the figures beneath drawing cautiously off on either hand, concealing themselves completely in the deep shadows, one only remaining prostrate in the very middle of the highway. Although the horsemen approached rapidly, it was some time ere they neared the spot; now the clatter of hoofs appearing close at hand, and then (as some turn in the road intervened) again for some moments totally lost to the ear.

At length they advanced down the hill which led immediately into this dark defile. Two horsemen he distinguished; the foremost immediately reined up his horse, and signed to his companion to do the same. The heart of Shakespeare beat quickly as he observed one of the travellers dismount and stoop down to render assistance to the prostrate form before him. As he did so the robber suddenly grasped the traveller by the throat and pulled him down, at the same moment his three companions darted like lightning from either side of the road; whilst two assailed the horseman, the third aided their comrade to despatch the traveller who had been entrapped.

The struggle was desperate: the mounted cavalier had in an instant unsheathed his long rapier, and manfully defended himself; and the woods around rang to the blows of the combatants. Meanwhile the prostrate traveller, whose horse had galloped off at the commencement of the fray, was also in an unpleasant plight. This latter, being a powerful man, had more than once heaved himself up by main force, and nearly cleared himself from his adversaries. But, with heavy blows and desperate exertions, they at length succeeded in pinning him down. In an instant, however, the fallen man succeeded in drawing a pistol from his belt, and discharged it into the body of one of his opponents.

All this happened in as short a time as it has taken the reader to peruse it. Life and death, in such deadly conflict, in taken and received by the combatants like the lightning's flash; and, albeit the travellers straggled manfully, yet a very few minutes sufficed to tell against the leaser party. The horseman was on the point of being dragged from his saddle, and his fellow-traveller was growing exhausted with the violence of action. At that moment, however, a heavy blow fractured the skull of the ruffian who hold the bridle-rein of the rearing steed, and as the new combatant afterwards opposed himself to the robber, who had by this time succeeded in bringing the rider to the ground, after a short and rapid combat, the latter turned and fled.

This turned the tide of battle instantaneously in favour of the travellers, and as in oft-times the case in such conflicts, it ended in the same rapid manner in which it had commenced. The travellers stood panting with their recent exertions, and whilst three bodies lay before them in the road, thou: deliverer, leaning upon his heavy quarter-staff, stood regarding one of them with curious eye.

Meantime, after the person, who seemed by his appearance the principal of the travellers, had somewhat recovered himself, he stepped up to the hero of the quarter-staff, and poured forth his thanks for the service rendered.

"We are indebted to you for no less than our lives," he said, "and would fain repay the obligation by something more acceptable than thanks."

The moon was at the moment hidden, but as Shakespeare caught a nearer view of the features of the speaker, he plucked his own hat over his brow, and withdrew still further into the shadow of the trees. At the same time he courteously refused all requital for the aid he had rendered.