“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.
[Illustration: THE BISHOP OF HEREFORD