“All in a woodman’s jacket he was clad
Of Lincolne greene, belay’d with silver lace
And on his head an hood with aglets sprad,
And by his side his hunter’s horne he hanging had.”
It is likewise noticed by our poet himself, in another place:
“Swains in shepherds gray, and gyrles in Lincolne greene.” [32]
See Polyolbion, song xxv., where the marginal note says, “Lincolne anciently dyed the best green in England.” Thus Coventry had formerly the reputation of dying the best blue. {xxxix} See Ray’s Proverbs, p. 178. Kendal green is equally famous, and appears to have been cloth of a similar quality. This colour was adopted by foresters to prevent their being too readily discovered by the deer. See Sir John Wynne’s History of the Guedir Family (Barrington’s Miscellanies), p. 419. Thus the Scotish Highlanders used to wear brown plaids to prevent their being distinguished among the heath. It is needless to observe that green has ever been the favourite dress of an archer, hunter, &c. See Note [34].[33] We now call it a Saxon or grass green:
“His coat is of a Saxon green, his waistcoat’s of a plaid” (O. song).
Lincoln green was well known in France in or before the 13th century. Thus, in an old fabliau, transprosed by M. Le Grand (Fabliaux ou Contes, iv. 13), “Il mit donc son surcot fourré d’écureuil, et sa belle robe d’Estanfort teinte en verd.” Estanfort is Stamford, in Lincolnshire.[34] This cloth is, likewise, often mentioned by the old Scotish poets under the names of Lincum licht, Lincum twyne, &c., and appears to have been in universal request: and yet, notwithstanding this cloud of evidence, Mr. Pinkerton has had the confidence to assert that “no particular cloth was ever made at Lincoln.” (See Ancient Scotish Poems, ii. 430.) But, indeed, this worthy gentleman, as Johnson said of Goldsmith, only stumbles upon truth by accident. {xl}
(17)
“From wealthy abbots’ chests,” &c.]
“But who,” exclaims Dr. Fuller, having cited this passage, “made him a judge? or gave him a commission to take where it might be best spared, and give where it was most wanted?” That same power, one may answer, which authorises kings to take where it can be worst spared, and give it where it is least wanted. Our hero, in this respect, was a knight-errant; and wanted no other commission than that of Justice, whose cause he militated. His power, compared with that of the king of England, was by no means either equally usurped or equally abused: the one reigned over subjects (or slaves) as a master (or tyrant), the other possessed no authority but what was delegated to him by the free suffrage of his adherents, for their general good: and as for the rest, it would be absurd to blame in Robin what we should praise in Richard.[35] The latter, too, warred in remote parts of the world against nations from which neither he nor his subjects had sustained any injury; the former at home against those to whose wealth, avarice, or ambition he might fairly attribute not only his own misfortunes, but the misery of the oppressed and enslaved society he had quitted. In a word, every man who has the power has also the authority to pursue the ends of justice, to regulate the gifts of fortune, by transferring the superfluities of the rich to the necessities of the poor; by relieving the oppressed, and even, when necessary, destroying the oppressor. These are the objects of the social union, and every individual may, and to the utmost of his power should, endeavour to promote them. Had our Robin Hood been, like M’Donald of Barrisdale, a reader of Virgil, he, as well as that gallant chief, might have inscribed on his baldric— {xli}
“Hæ tibi erunt artes; pacis componere mores,
Parcere subjectis, et debellare superbos.” [36]