“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.