Little John Goes to Nottingham Fair
SPRING HAD GONE since the Sheriff's feast in Sherwood,
and summer also, and the mellow month of October had come.
All the air was cool and fresh; the harvests were gathered home,
the young birds were full fledged, the hops were plucked,
and apples were ripe. But though time had so smoothed things over
that men no longer talked of the horned beasts that the Sheriff
wished to buy, he was still sore about the matter and could
not bear to hear Robin Hood's name spoken in his presence.
With October had come the time for holding the great Fair
which was celebrated every five years at Nottingham Town,
to which folk came from far and near throughout the country.
At such times archery was always the main sport of the day,
for the Nottinghamshire yeomen were the best hand at the longbow
in all merry England, but this year the Sheriff hesitated
a long time before he issued proclamation of the Fair,
fearing lest Robin Hood and his band might come to it.
At first he had a great part of a mind not to proclaim the Fair,
but second thought told him that men would laugh at him and say
among themselves that he was afraid of Robin Hood, so he put
that thought by. At last he fixed in his mind that he would
offer such a prize as they would not care to shoot for.
At such times it had been the custom to offer a half score
of marks or a tun of ale, so this year he proclaimed that a prize
of two fat steers should be given to the best bowman.
When Robin Hood heard what had been proclaimed he was vexed,
and said, "Now beshrew this Sheriff that he should offer such
a prize that none but shepherd hinds will care to shoot for it!
I would have loved nothing better than to have had another bout
at merry Nottingham Town, but if I should win this prize nought
would it pleasure or profit me."
Then up spoke Little John: "Nay, but hearken, good master,"
said he, "only today Will Stutely, young David of Doncaster,
and I were at the Sign of the Blue Boar, and there we heard
all the news of this merry Fair, and also that the Sheriff hath
offered this prize, that we of Sherwood might not care to come
to the Fair; so, good master, if thou wilt, I would fain go
and strive to win even this poor thing among the stout yeomen
who will shoot at Nottingham Town."
"Nay, Little John," quoth Robin, "thou art a sound stout
fellow, yet thou
lackest the cunning that good Stutely hath, and I would not have harm
befall thee for all Nottinghamshire. Nevertheless, if thou wilt go,
take some disguise lest there be those there who may know thee."
"So be it, good master," quoth Little John, "yet all the
disguise that I
wish is a good suit of scarlet instead of this of Lincoln green.
I will draw the cowl of my jacket about my head so that it will hide
my brown hair and beard, and then, I trust, no one will know me."
"It is much against my will," said Robin Hood, "ne'ertheless,
dost wish it, get thee gone, but bear thyself seemingly, Little John,
for thou art mine own right-hand man and I could ill bear to have
harm befall thee."
So Little John clad himself all in scarlet and started off to the Fair
at Nottingham Town.
Right merry were these Fair days at Nottingham, when the green before
the great town gate was dotted with booths standing in rows, with tents
of many-colored canvas, hung about with streamers and garlands of flowers,
and the folk came from all the countryside, both gentle and common.
In some booths there was dancing to merry music, in others flowed ale
and beer, and in others yet again sweet cakes and barley sugar were sold;
and sport was going outside the booths also, where some minstrel
sang ballads of the olden time, playing a second upon the harp,
or where the wrestlers struggled with one another within the sawdust ring,
but the people gathered most of all around a raised platform where stout
fellows played at quarterstaff.
So Little John came to the Fair. All scarlet were his hose and jerkin,
and scarlet was his cowled cap, with a scarlet feather stuck in the side
of it. Over his shoulders was slung a stout bow of yew, and across his back
hung a quiver of good round arrows. Many turned to look after such a stout,
tall fellow, for his shoulders were broader by a palm's-breadth than any
that were there, and he stood a head taller than all the other men.
The lasses, also, looked at him askance, thinking they had never seen
a lustier youth.
First of all he went to the booth where stout ale was sold and,
standing aloft on a bench, he called to all that were near
to come and drink with him. "Hey, sweet lads!" cried he "who
will drink ale with a stout yeoman? Come, all! Come, all!
Let us be merry, for the day is sweet and the ale is tingling.
Come hither, good yeoman, and thou, and thou; for not a farthing
shall one of you pay. Nay, turn hither, thou lusty beggar,
and thou jolly tinker, for all shall be merry with me.
Thus he shouted, and all crowded around, laughing, while the brown ale flowed;
and they called Little John a brave fellow, each swearing that he loved
as his own brother; for when one has entertainment with nothing to pay,
one loves the man that gives it to one.
Then he strolled to the platform where they were at cudgel play,
for he loved a bout at quarterstaff as he loved meat and drink;
and here befell an adventure that was sung in ballads throughout
the mid-country for many a day.
One fellow there was that cracked crowns of everyone who threw
cap into the ring. This was Eric o' Lincoln, of great renown,
whose name had been sung in ballads throughout the countryside.
When Little John reached the stand he found none fighting,
but only bold Eric walking up and down the platform,
swinging his staff and shouting lustily, "Now, who will
come and strike a stroke for the lass he loves the best,
with a good Lincolnshire yeoman? How now, lads? Step up!
Step up! Or else the lasses' eyes are not bright hereabouts,
or the blood of Nottingham youth is sluggish and cold.
Lincoln against Nottingham, say I! For no one hath put foot upon
the boards this day such as we of Lincoln call a cudgel player."
At this, one would nudge another with his elbow, saying, "Go thou,
or "Go thou, Thomas!" but no lad cared to gain a cracked crown
Presently Eric saw where Little John stood among the others,
a head and shoulders above them all, and he called to
him loudly, "Halloa, thou long-legged fellow in scarlet!
Broad are thy shoulders and thick thy head; is not thy lass
fair enough for thee to take cudgel in hand for her sake?
In truth, I believe that Nottingham men do turn to bone and sinew,
for neither heart nor courage have they! Now, thou great lout,
wilt thou not twirl staff for Nottingham?"
"Ay," quoth Little John, "had I but mine own good staff here,
pleasure me hugely to crack thy knave's pate, thou saucy braggart!
I wot it would be well for thee an thy cock's comb were cut!"
Thus he spoke, slowly at first, for he was slow to move; but his
wrath gathered headway like a great stone rolling down a hill,
so that at the end he was full of anger.
Then Eric o' Lincoln laughed aloud. "Well spoken for one who fears
to meet me fairly, man to man," said he. "Saucy art thou thine
and if thou puttest foot upon these boards, I will make thy saucy tongue
rattle within thy teeth!"
"Now," quoth Little John, "is there never a man here that
lend me a good stout staff till I try the mettle of yon fellow?"
At this, half a score reached him their staves, and he took the stoutest
and heaviest of them all. Then, looking up and down the cudgel,
he said, "Now, I have in my hand but a splint of wood--a barley straw,
as it were--yet I trow it will have to serve me, so here goeth."
Thereupon he cast the cudgel upon the stand and, leaping lightly after it,
snatched it up in his hand again.
Then each man stood in his place and measured the other with fell
looks until he that directed the sport cried, "Play!" At this
stepped forth, each grasping his staff tightly in the middle.
Then those that stood around saw the stoutest game of quarterstaff
that e'er Nottingham Town beheld. At first Eric o' Lincoln thought
that he would gain an easy advantage, so he came forth as if he would say,
"Watch, good people, how that I carve you this cockerel right speedily";
but he presently found it to be no such speedy matter. Right deftly
he struck, and with great skill of fence, but he had found his match
in Little John. Once, twice, thrice, he struck, and three times
Little John turned the blows to the left hand and to the right.
Then quickly and with a dainty backhanded blow, he rapped Eric
beneath his guard so shrewdly that it made his head ring again.
Then Eric stepped back to gather his wits, while a great shout went
up and all were glad that Nottingham had cracked Lincoln's crown;
and thus ended the first bout of the game.
Then presently the director of the sport cried, "Play!" and they
together again; but now Eric played warily, for he found his man was of
good mettle, and also he had no sweet memory of the blow that he had got;
so this bout neither Little John nor the Lincoln man caught a stroke
within his guard. Then, after a while, they parted again, and this made
the second bout.
Then for the third time they came together, and at first Eric strove
to be wary, as he had been before; but, growing mad at finding
himself so foiled, he lost his wits and began to rain blows so
fiercely and so fast that they rattled like hail on penthouse roof;
but, in spite of all, he did not reach within Little John's guard.
Then at last Little John saw his chance and seized it right cleverly.
Once more, with a quick blow, he rapped Eric beside the head,
and ere he could regain himself, Little John slipped his right hand
down to his left and, with a swinging blow, smote the other so sorely
upon the crown that down he fell as though he would never move again.
Then the people shouted so loud that folk came running from all
about to see what was the ado; while Little John leaped down from
the stand and gave the staff back to him that had lent it to him.
And thus ended the famous bout between Little John and Eric o'
Lincoln of great renown.
But now the time had come when those who were to shoot with the
longbow were to take their places, so the people began flocking
to the butts where the shooting was to be. Near the target,
in a good place, sat the Sheriff upon a raised dais, with many
gentlefolk around him. When the archers had taken their places,
the herald came forward and proclaimed the rules of the game,
and how each should shoot three shots, and to him that should
shoot the best the prize of two fat steers was to belong.
A score of brave shots were gathered there, and among them some
of the keenest hands at the longbow in Lincoln and Nottinghamshire;
and among them Little John stood taller than all the rest.
"Who is yon stranger clad all in scarlet?" said some, and others
answered, "It is he that hath but now so soundly cracked the crown
of Eric o' Lincoln." Thus the people talked among themselves,
until at last it reached even the Sheriff's ears.
And now each man stepped forward and shot in turn; but though each shot
Little John was the best of all, for three times he struck the clout, and
only the length of a barleycorn from the center. "Hey for the tall
shouted the crowd, and some among them shouted, "Hey for Reynold Greenleaf!"
for this was the name that Little John had called himself that day.
Then the Sheriff stepped down from the raised seat and came to where
the archers stood, while all doffed their caps that saw him coming.
He looked keenly at Little John but did not know him, though he said,
after a while, "How now, good fellow, methinks there is that about
face that I have seen erewhile."
"Mayhap it may be so," quoth Little John, "for often have
Your Worship." And, as he spoke, he looked steadily into the Sheriff's
eyes so that the latter did not suspect who he was.
"A brave blade art thou, good friend," said the Sheriff, "and
that thou hast well upheld the skill of Nottinghamshire against
that of Lincoln this day. What may be thy name, good fellow?"
"Men do call me Reynold Greenleaf, Your Worship," said Little
and the old ballad that tells of this, adds, "So, in truth, was he
green leaf, but of what manner of tree the Sheriff wotted not."
"Now, Reynold Greenleaf," quoth the Sheriff, "thou art the
fairest hand at
the longbow that mine eyes ever beheld, next to that false knave, Robin
from whose wiles Heaven forfend me! Wilt thou join my service, good fellow?
Thou shalt be paid right well, for three suits of clothes shalt thou have
a year, with good food and as much ale as thou canst drink; and, besides
I will pay thee forty marks each Michaelmastide."
"Then here stand I a free man, and right gladly will I enter thy household,"
said Little John, for he thought he might find some merry jest,
should he enter the Sheriff's service.
"Fairly hast thou won the fat steers," said the Sheriff,
"and "hereunto I will add a butt of good March beer, for joy
of having gotten such a man; for, I wot, thou shootest as fair
a shaft as Robin Hood himself."
"Then," said Little John, "for joy of having gotten myself
into thy service,
I will give fat steers and brown ale to all these good folk, to make them
merry withal." At this arose a great shout, many casting their caps
for joy of the gift.
Then some built great fires and roasted the steers, and others
broached the butt of ale, with which all made themselves merry.
Then, when they had eaten and drunk as much as they could,
and when the day faded and the great moon arose, all red and round,
over the spires and towers of Nottingham Town, they joined hands
and danced around the fires, to the music of bagpipes and harps.
But long before this merrymaking had begun, the Sheriff and his
new servant Reynold Greenleaf were in the Castle of Nottingham.
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