Fourth Series. Ballads of Robin Hood and other Outlaws

‘Come sit we downe under this Hawthorne tree,

The morrowes light shall lend us daie enough,

And tell a tale of Gawen or Sir Guy,

Of Robin Hood, or of good Clem of the Clough.’

SIDGWICK & JACKSON, LTD 3 Adam Street, Adelphi London. MCMXII

—C’est une vieille chanson.

—Qui l’a faite?

—On ne sait pas.

—Quand?

—On ne sait pas.

—Quand tu étais petit?

—Avant que je fusse au monde, avant qu’y fût mon père, et le père de mon père, et le père du père de mon père. Cela a toujours été. —Rolland, L’Aube.

CONTENTS

ADAM BELL, CLYM OF THE CLOUGH AND WILLIAM OF CLOUDESLY

PREFACE

This volume concludes the series, begun in 1903, which was intended to comprise all the best traditional ballads of England and Scotland. The scheme of classification by subject-matter, arbitrary and haphazard as it may seem to be at one point or another, has, I think, proved more satisfactory than could have been anticipated; and in the end I have omitted no ballad without due justification.

In the fourteen years which have elapsed since the completion of Professor Child’s collection, there has been discovered, so far as I know, only one ballad that can claim the right to be added to his roll of 305 ‘English and Scottish Popular Ballads.’ That one is the carol of The Bitter Withy, which I was fortunate enough to recover in 1905, which my friend Professor Gerould of Princeton University has annotated with an erudition worthy of Child, and the genuineness of which has been sponsored by viii Professor Gummere.1 I should perhaps have included this in its place in my Second Series, had I known of it in time, but I still hope to treat the traditional English Carols separately. I ought to admit here that the confidence with which I claimed, in my Third Series, a place on the roll for The Jolly Juggler, has abated, and I now consider it to be no more than a narrative lyric without any definitely ‘popular’ characteristics.

These four volumes contain in all 143 ballads, four of which are not to be found in Child’s collection.2 Thus, out of his 305, I have omitted more than half; but it must be remembered that his work was a collection, and mine—si parva licet componere magnis—has been selection. The omitted ballads are either:—

(i) Fragmentary or mutilated;

(ii) Closely related to ballads which I include;

(iii) Uninteresting, e.g. as dealing with obscure history;

(iv) Degenerate.

The last reason for exclusion particularly affects the Robin Hood ballads, among which ix Child prints thirty-three late broadsides and fragments which I omit. He preferred to err by inclusion rather than exclusion, and states that he has admitted more than one ballad, ‘actually worthless and manifestly spurious, because of a remote possibility that it might contain relics, or be a debased representative, of something genuine and better.’3

I cannot take leave of nine years’ intermittent work on this selection without remembering that its ‘only begetter’ was Mr. A. H. Bullen, with whom I published the first three volumes. While I regret to think how different it is in the result from the edition he then envisaged, I gratefully acknowledge my indebtedness to him for the inoculation. The anthologist is strictly a plucker of the flowers of literature; but the ballads are not literature—they are lore, and therefore of warmer human interest.

F. S.

1. The Popular Ballad (1907), p. 228.

2. These are The Nutbrown Maid, First Series; The Lyke-Wake Dirge and Adam, Second Series; and The Jolly Juggler, Third Series.

3. Vol. v. p. 182.

INTRODUCTION TO THE ROBIN HOOD BALLADS

‘It is our olde manner,’ sayd Robyn,

‘To leve but lytell behynde.’

‘It will scarcely be expected that one should be able to offer an authentic narrative of the life and transactions of this extraordinary personage. The times in which he lived, the mode of life he adopted, and the silence or loss of contemporary writers, are circumstances sufficiently favourable, indeed, to romance, but altogether inimical to historical truth.’ In these words Joseph Ritson, the first and most painstaking of those well-meaning scholars who have tried to associate the outlaw with ‘historical truth,’ begins his ‘Life of Robin Hood,’ an account which occupies ten pages of his book, and is annotated and illustrated through the following one hundred and five pages. The Dictionary of National Biography includes Robin Hood, as it includes King Arthur; but it is better to face the truth, and to state boldly that Robin Hood the yeoman xii outlaw never existed in the flesh. As the goddess Athena sprang from the head of Zeus, Robin Hood sprang from the imagination of the English people.

That being so, he is a creation of whom the English people, who have kept him so long alive where he was born and bred, should be proud; and after reflecting on his essential characteristics—his love of the poor, his courteous robbery of the higher orders both spiritual and temporal, his loyalty to the king, his freedom with the king’s deer, and his esteem of all women for the sake of the Virgin—an Englishman should be the first to resent any attempt to identify so truly popular a hero either with one of several historical nonentities, or with a member of the aristocracy, or worst of all, with an Aryan sun-myth.

All these attempts have been made at one time or another, but not until the spirit which begot him had begun to dwindle in the English heart. If King Arthur is the ideal knight of Celtic chivalry, Robin is the ideal champion of the popular cause under feudal conditions: his enemies are bishops, fat monks, and the sheriff who would restrain his liberty. It is natural that an enfranchised yeoman, who took toll of the oppressors, and so effected what we still call xiii a redistribution of wealth, should be the hero of the oppressed and the law-abiding poor; and it is natural that, as social conditions altered (for better or for worse) with the national prosperity under Elizabeth, and classes and masses reconsidered their relative positions, Robin should fall from the popular pantheon, and should degenerate, as we find him degenerated in the broadsides of the Reformation hacks, into a swashbuckler unheroic enough to be defeated in quarter-staff bouts and so undemocratic as to find for himself a noble title and a wife of high degree.

There are, then, four Robin Hoods:—

(i) The popular outlaw of the greenwood, as revealed to us in the older ballads.

(ii) The quasi-historical Robin, the outlaw ennobled (by a contradiction in terms) as the Earl of Huntingdon, Robert Fitzooth, etc., and the husband of Matilda.

(iii) One of a number of actual Robert Hoods, whose existence (and insignificance) has been proved from historical documents.

(iv) Robin Hood, or Robin o’ Wood, explained by German scholars as the English representative of Woden, or a wood-god, or some other mythical personage.

We will now investigate these in turn, attempting so far as may be possible to keep them distinct.

I. The Ballad Hero Robin Hood

The earliest known reference to Robin Hood the outlaw was first pointed out by Bishop Percy, the editor of the Reliques, in Piers Plowman, the poem written by Langland about 1377, where Sloth says (B. text, passus v. 401):—

‘But I can [know] rymes of Robyn hood, and Randolf erle of Chestre.’

Observing that this first mention of Robin is as the subject of ballads, and that he is coupled with another popular hero, one of the twelfth-century Earls of Chester, we pass to the next reference.

‘Lytill Ihon and Robyne Hude

Waythmen ware commendyd gude;

In Yngilwode and Barnysdale

Thai oysyd all this tyme thare trawale.’

This passage, from Wyntoun’s Chronicle of Scotland (about 1420), is referred to the year 1283, and means that Robin and his man Little John were known as good hunters (cf. ‘wight yeomen,’ constantly in the ballads), and they carried on their business in Inglewood and Barnsdale at this time.

In 1439 a petition was presented to Parliament concerning a certain Piers Venables, of whom it is stated that, having no other livelihood, he ‘gadered and assembled unto him many misdoers’ and ‘wente into the wodes in that contrë, like as it hadde be Robyn-hode and his meynë.’

About the same time (c. 1437), a longer description is given in Fordun’s Scotichronicon, which was revised and continued by Bower, where the latter states that Robin Hood, ‘that most celebrated robber,’ was one of the dispossessed and banished followers of Simon de Montfort. He proceeds, however, to couple with him ‘Litill Johanne’ and their associates, ‘of whom the foolish vulgar in comedies and tragedies make lewd entertainment, and are delighted to hear the jesters and minstrels sing them above all other ballads,’4 and to describe briefly one of the ‘tragedies.’

An extract from one more chronicler will suffice, and it should be noted that these three, Wyntoun, Bower, and Major, are all Scottish. John Major (or Mair) was born about 1450, and his Historia Maioris Britanniæ was published in xvi 1521. In the part dealing with the reign of Richard I. (lib. iv. cap. ii.), we find:—

‘About this time it was, as I conceive, that there flourished those most famous robbers Robert Hood, an Englishman, and Little John, who lay in wait in the woods, but spoiled of their goods those only who were wealthy. They took the life of no man, unless either he attacked them or offered resistance in defence of his property. Robert supported by his plundering a hundred bowmen, ready fighters every one, with whom four hundred of the strongest would not dare to engage in combat. The feats of this Robert are told in song all over Britain. He would allow no woman to suffer injustice, nor would he spoil the poor, but rather enriched them from the plunder taken from abbots. The robberies of this man I condemn, but of all thieves he was the prince and the most gentle thief.’5 This is repeated almost verbatim in Stow’s Annales (1681).

These five references show that Robin Hood was popular in ballads for at least a century before the date at which we find those ballads in print; and apart from the fact that printing is usually the last thing that happens to a ballad xvii of the folk, the language in which they are written is unmistakably Middle English—that is to say, the Gest of Robyn Hode (at least) may be dated nearer 1400 than 1500. But Langland’s evidence is clear; ‘rymes’ of Robin Hood were widely known by 1377. Neither Bower nor Major know anything of Robin except what they learnt from the ballads about him.

II. Robin Hood, Earl of Huntingdon

In attempting to provide Robin Hood with a noble ancestry, Ritson quotes, amongst other authorities, a manuscript life of Robin, which, as it supplied him with other errors, had best be put out of court at once. This is Sloane MS. 780 (Ritson calls it 715, which is due to the fact that in his time Sloane MSS. 715-7, 720-1, and 780-1 were bound up together); it is of the early seventeenth century, which is much too late for any faith to be put in its statements.

No allusion to the noble descent of Robin Hood has been found earlier than one in Grafton’s Chronicle (1569), where the author alleges that he takes this information from ‘an olde and auncient pamphlet.’ As Child says, we must ‘invoke the spirit of Ritson to pardon the xviii taking of no very serious notice of Robin Hood’s noble extraction.’

Stukely, an antiquary who published his Palæographia Britannica in 1746, derived ‘Robert Fitzooth, commonly called Robin Hood, pretended Earl of Huntingdon,’ from a series of Anglo-Norman lords.

It would be almost unnecessary to mention the two Elizabethan plays concerning Robert the Earl, were it not for an ingenious suggestion made in connection with them. The Downfall of Robert Earl of Huntington, and The Death of the same, were written by Anthony Munday and Henry Chettle, and are first mentioned in Henslowe’s Diary in 1598. The Earl, being outlawed, flies to Sherwood Forest, accompanied by Matilda, daughter of Lord Fitzwater; and there he assumes the style and title of Robin Hood, and calls Matilda Maid Marian. This plot is introduced by an induction in which John Skelton the poet appears as stage-manager; and it has been suggested that Munday’s play may be founded on a now-lost interlude or pageant of Skelton’s composing. Robert, Lord Fitz-Walter, a descendant from the original Earls of Huntingdon, was patron of the living at Diss, in Norfolk, which Skelton held.’6

III. Historical Robin Hoods

In 1852 Joseph Hunter issued, as No. 4 of his ‘Critical and Historical Tracts,’ The Great Hero of the ancient Minstrelsy of England, Robin Hood. Amongst other discoveries, he found, in an Exchequer document of expenses in the royal household of Edward II., the name of ‘Robyn Hode’ occurring several times as a ‘vadlet’ or ‘porteur de la chambre,’ at the salary of threepence per diem, between March and November of 1324.

Various other researchers have succeeded in tracing half a dozen people, all named Robin or Robert Hood, within a period of some forty years of the fourteenth century; but few have pressed identification with Robin Hood the outlaw so far as Hunter, ‘who,’ says Professor Child, ‘could have identified Pigrogromitus and Quinapalus, if he had given his mind to it.’ Working on the above datum, Hunter shows how probable it is that Robin Hood the outlaw entered the service of Edward II. at Nottingham, where the king was from November 9-23 in 1323. But the Robin whose fortunes Hunter raked up was a very bad servant, and within a year from the alleged date was ignominiously dismissed from the king’s service, with a present of 5s., ‘because he was no longer able to work’! xx Was this the invincible champion of English yeomen? Was this the hand that launched a thousand shafts?

The only point to which attention need be called is the obvious fact that ‘Robert Hood’ was not an uncommon combination of names, at least in fourteenth-century England.

IV. Robin Hood the Myth

In 1845 Adalbert Kuhn (in Haupt’s Zeitschrift, v. 472-94) attempted to show that Robin Hood was a mythological figure representing one of the manifestations of Woden, as a vegetation deity; and half a century later Sir J. H. Ramsay suggested that he was a wood-spirit corresponding to the Hodeken of German tradition. Theories such as this7 seem to be fascinating to all sorts of scholars, perhaps because they involve continually a minute appreciation of fine shades of probability. In the present instance they reach a point at which it is suggested that the rose-garland worn by the Potter—not in the ballad of Robin Hood and the Potter, but in the later play—is a survival of the Strife between xxi Summer and Winter. Certainly there is no need to seek a mythological origin for the Robin Hood of the ballads; but we must proceed to consider the Robin of folk-drama.

To do this, it is necessary to go back some centuries before the time at which we first hear of Robin Hood the outlaw, and to follow the development of the English folk’s summer festival from song and dance to drama, and from the folk-games—the ‘Induction of May,’ the ‘Induction of Autumn,’ the ‘Play of the King and the Queen,’ which, separately or together, were performed at least as early as the thirteenth century—to the ‘May-game’ or ‘King’s game’ of the middle of the fifteenth century. Going back again to the thirteenth century, and crossing over to France, we find in the fêtes du mai—which were evolved, with the help of the minstrels, from the French folk’s summer festival—the names of Robin and Marion customarily appropriated to the king and queen of these fêtes.

Now between 1450 and 1500 the May-game becomes associated in England with Robin Hood: setting aside the possibility that Bower’s reference, mentioned above, to ‘comedies and tragedies,’ may allude to the May-game, we can find many entries, in parish records from all parts xxii of England, which show that the summer folk-festival has developed into a play of Robin Hood. Further, it has been very plausibly suggested8 that about the same time the French Robin, becoming confused with the English one, brought in Marion (a French name), and thus supplied our Robin Hood with his Maid Marian, who has no place in the true ballads of the outlaw.

In 1473 Sir John Paston wrote a letter in which he refers to a servant, of whom he says, ‘I have kepyd hym this iii yer to pleye Saynt Jorge and Robyn Hod and the Shryff of Nottyngham.’ There has also survived a leaf of manuscript—perhaps it is only an accident that it was formerly in the possession of the first editor of the Paston Letters—of about the same date, which contains a portion of the play to which Sir John refers, that of Robin Hood and the Sheriff of Nottingham,9 which is founded upon a story similar to that of the ballad of Robin Hood and Guy of Gisborne (see p. 128). xxiii Besides this fragment, we have in William Copland’s edition of the Gest a dramatic appendix of ‘the playe of Robyn Hoode, verye proper to be played in Maye games’ (printed c. 1560); this in fact consists of two plays carelessly tagged together, first Robin Hood and the Friar (who is distinctly called Friar Tuck), and second, Robin Hood and the Potter (partly founded on the ballad of that name). Friar Tuck, it should be noted, occurs also in the

earlier fragmentary play; but there is no friar in Robin Hood’s ‘meynie’ in any of the older ballads, and no Maid Marian in either the older ballads or the above plays.

These complications of Robin Hood’s company are further confused by the fact that the morris-dance, which was universally affiliated to the May-game, borrowed therefrom not only Maid Marian but Robin Hood, Little John and Friar Tuck; so that amongst the later ballads and broadsides we find Robin’s company increased. However, by that time Robin himself had degenerated from the fine character exhibited in the earlier ballads given in this volume.

Topography of Robin Hood’s Haunts

Although Robin Hood belongs in legend no more exclusively to any definite district than xxv his noble fore-runner King Arthur, yet, like King Arthur, he has become associated particularly with one or two haunts; and it is no easier—nor in the end more profitable—to reconcile Lyonnesse with Carlisle and Inglewood10 than to disentangle Robin Hood of Barnsdale from Robin Hood of Sherwood Forest.

The simplest way to begin is to eliminate from our consideration the numerous Robin Hood’s Hills, Wells, Stones, Oaks, or Butts, some of which may be found as far distant as Gloucestershire and Somerset; for many of these probably bear his name in much the same way as other natural freaks bear the Devil’s name. A large number can be found in what may be called Robin Hood’s home-counties, Yorkshire and those which touch Yorkshire—Lancashire, Derby, Nottingham and Lincoln shires.

Undoubtedly the evidence of the best ballads goes to show that at one time there must have been at least two cycles of Robin Hood ballads, one placing him in Barnsdale, the other allotting him headquarters in Sherwood; but it appears that even the ballads of the fifteenth century make little effort to discriminate between the xxvi two. Robin Hood and the Monk (MS. of c. 1450) introduces us, in its first five lovely stanzas, to Sherwood; in Robin Hood and the Potter (MS. of c. 1500), the scene is Nottingham, in the Sherwood district. Little John refers to Wentbridge, which lies in the heart of Barnsdale, yet knows every path in merry Sherwood.