I, ROGER AYLMER, clerke to ye Abbot of Croweland Abbey in Lincolnshire,
doe hereby sweare that what I herein do write is ye fulle and whole
truth and nothing but ye truth of my seizure by ye outlawe Robyn Hode,
and that which I do heare write is to prove to ye Abbot of Fountaines
Abbey in Yorkshire, that I dyd to ye best of my mighte and courage,
seek to protect ye goodes belonging to him from ye rascally outlawe;
which sayd goodes were in my keepynge when they were by force y’parted
from me.
In October 1196 Our goode Father ye Abbot (of Croweland) dyd receiue
from Fountaines Abbey, an order for certain goodes to be sent thither,
to wit: six score yardes of Lincolne cloth, three score yardes of
scarlet cloth, certain rolles of leather and sundrie other goodes.
I was sent offe with four serving men and two yeomen, to whom, partly,
we looked for sustenance on our way, as the forests of Nottingham Shire
and Barneys Dale doe abound in many and gret dere, which be ye Kyng hys
property. Nevertheless, ye Kyng being away in Palestyne fightynge ye
Paynim, men doe take of hys dere withouten leve.
Our traine dyd consist of six mules, bearing ye goodes, and seven
others which dyd beare myself and my menne. Ye weather being clere and
colde we dyd make right goode waye, passing safely thro’ the forests of
Notts wyth but one mishappe.
At a lowe parte in a woode we dyd com upon a boggy place, near unto
which was a gret pool of water, engirdled rounde about with rushes and
eke with tall redes, and thynkinge it might be goode to water our mules
there, we dyd caste about for a patheway, to lede to the sayd water,
which anon we dyd find.
The yeomen led ye way, but we had not far advanced when a gret wild
boare, with horrid snortyngs and squeals dyd attack one of oure mules,
and although both yeomen with their longbows dyd fill him with sundrie
arrowes, yet dyd he not desist from his bellowing and goreing. Then
straightway dyd ye bowels of ye mule gush out upon ye grounde from ye
tearing of ye crewel tarshes of ye boare.
Seeing this, one of ye serving men dyd thrust thro’ the boare hys
bodie, a great spere, and fixed him to ye earthe; nevertheless no manne
dare venture near, so gret was ye rage of ye furious beast. Then dyd ye
serving men set upon him and overcame him, so that he preasently dyd
dye, and from hys carcase we dyd make a fulle hearty meale.
Ye mule which was y’stricken ded, was that on which we dyd carry our
cooking gear, the which being packed upon a freshe mule, he dyd rebel
at ye noise of the tinne and copper pottes and pannes, which as he dyd
gambol and kicke dyd make much dullor, till the mule being tyred with
his prancynge did act more peacefully and get him gone quietly.
Anon we reached ye forest of Barneys Dale, which as alle menne know is
ye chiefest haunte of that rascal outlawe, Robyn Hode and hys menne.
Entering into ye forest my menne dyd beg me to goe around, for feare we
might mete with ye bold robber, to which I dyd reply that “Were it in
the days of summer, ye name of Robyn Hode might scare even me; a manne
of much courage and stomach for ye fighte; but it being the wintertyde,
I cared nought for hym, as he woulde be hyding in some snugge village
on ye craggy moors. I woulde therefore hie me thro’ ye forest, without
let or hynderance, and see what manner of place Robyn dyd love, and
that with mine owne eyen.”
Into Barneys Dale we rode right merrilie, one of ye serving menne
playing blythely upon his sackbutt, y’whylst I dyd sing songs most
lustilie, soe that when we dyd join our voices in chorus, the foreste
dyd helpe us greatly to swell ye sounde, which dyd echo and ringe
against ye gret bowes and bolls of ye trees. Thys dyd we to keep in
goode hearte, and while we dyd thus divert ourselves, it being towards
ye houre of noone, we dyd com to a gret cliffe, near which dyd grow
manny noble trees, and at ye feet of ye cliffe dyd laye a mass of
tangled underwood and a faire barne or storehouse.
As ye winde dyd blowe somewhat sore, and ye gret cliffe dyd give
shelter therefrom, we dyd alite from our mules, intending there to
dress our victuals.
Finding a patheway or loke to ye foote of ye cliffe, we dyd secure
its shelter and lited us a fire, which was thereby screened from ye
colde winde. Then dyd we perceive that ye cliffe was full of gret holes
and caves, some of which were stopped uppe with rough bordes of wode
against them, which dyd make us marvel what might be behinde them.
Then did we guess what they mought be; and some sayd it maye be soe and
soe, and others sayed it is thys or that, till one sayd it maye be ye
hiding-place of Robyn Hode, in ye faire tyme of ye yeare, but others
sayd no, it is a place for woodemen and they who doe mynd cattel.
But one of my serving men being curious to knowe what was within these
caves, dyd with hys handes begin to pull downe some of ye boardes, ye
which dyd make a kynd of doorway, whereupon came an arrow, which dyd
pin hys hande to the woode, and he dyd cry out in gret payn for us to
release him.
Then ran forward Thomas à Boston, one of ye yeomen, to give succor,
but whan he dyd put forthe hys hande to plucke out the arrowe from hys
comrade, straiteway flew anoder arrowe, which smiting him on ye face,
dyd pierce his two cheekes, soe that ye feathers of the arrowe were wet
with hys bloude.
Anon came a loude voice which alle might heare, though ye speaker no
manne coulde see:
“Stande alle! Upon ye erthe your weapons throwe.”
Thys we dyd, when there advanced into ye lytell open space before ye
caves, a stalwart man y’clad in green clothe of goode pryce, having in
his hande a long-bowe to which an arrow was notched. At his right side
he dyd weare a goodlie sword, and from his left shouder hung a crooked
horne. He hadde on a mantel of sad color, but of thicke texture, to
keepe him from ye inclemency of ye weather.
“Who seeke you here?” he cry’d. “Why brake you downe in wantonness ye
dwelling of a poore forester?”