DOBELL COUECTION ^U^'H^'^ ^^mm^. rS- ^6? ^tntiar of tSSaafeefieltJ'S iegenb* HottUon: ^ritttcti tiB 3. iWo^es, ®astU Street, ICdcester Square. JW.B©®e.XXXEff. ^ M n r /: >^^ /^ 4-^^:^ ^Z- JL^^^^^. S6e ^tntiar of IBalfeefieltj^s i^egenb. ILonbon : ^nnU"D fttt % i^oBES, €DastlE Smet, HCciccsur Square. i^.©©Q:®.XXXBE. ^^^-«*'< 205449 ^l|)aM^t^l^ prefare* From many circumstances, we are disposed to annex a more modern date to the following republished tract than belongs to the pro- fessed author, whom an ancient ballad states as a boon companion of Robin Hood's father — " The father of Robin a forester was, And he shot with a lusty bow Two north-country miles and an inch at a shot, As the Pindar of Wakefield doth know. " For he brought Adam Bell, and Clym-o'-the-Clough, And William of Cloudeslie, To shoot with our forester for forty marks, And oar forester beat them all three." IV PREFACE. The best authorities seem in doubt whether this well-known personage vv^as a travelling min- strel (as the term Pindar is by some thought to imply), or rather, the Pinner, viz. the Pounder, or Pound-keeper, of the town of Wakefield : to which latter interpretation we rather in- cline, as he is said to have won Robin Hood's patronage by cracking his crown. In the days of stouthrief and pound-breach, the office in question demanded a hand better versed in the quarter-staff than the harp, and equal to the office of a " pounder" after the manner of the doughty Diego Perez.* On the whole, we are induced to attribute this ballad to some " parcel-poet" of the days * Called El Machuca, or the Pounder, from his feats against the Moors. — See Lockiiart's Spanish Ballads, p. 76. PREFACE. V of Roger Ascham, when the use of the long- bow was the favourite gymnastic sport among our gentry and yeomanry, as may be inferred from the learned graduate's Toxophilus. The names of the outlaws of Robin Hood's band seem assumed to designate the members of some archery society of the date in question, and (as should appear from the local allusions) abiding not far from the royal residence of Windsor. I ^Je ^inUar'ss itegenli. The Pindar of Wakefield is my style, And what I list, I write ; Whilome a clerk of Oxenford, But now a wandering wight. When birds sing free in bower and tree, And sports are to the fore, With fiddle and long-bow forth I fare. As Phoebus did of yore. X O THE PINDAR S LEGEND. The twang of both best liketh me By those fair spots of earth, Where Chaucer* conn'd his minstrelsy, And Alfred drew his birth. And whatsoever chance conceit Within my brain doth light, It trickleth to my fingers' ends, And needs I must indite. Ev'n thus my godfather of Greece, Whose worthy name I bear, Of a cock or a bull or a whale would sing, And seldom stopp'd to care. ^' For whoso shall gainsay," quoth he, ^* My sovereign will and law, * Chaucer, it is said, resided at Donnington Castle. Alfred was born at Wantage. Hence a clue to the locality of the ballad. THE Pindar's legend. 9 Or carpeth at my strain divine, In hope to sniiF some flaw, Certes I reck of the lowsie knave As an eagle of a daw." Yet whomsoe'er in wrestling ring He spied to bear him strong, Or whom he knew a good man and time, He clapped him in a song. Like him, it listeth me to tell Some fytte in former years Of the merry men all, and yeomen tall, Who were my jovial feres. Now, forasmuch as legends false Say, Sherwood men were thieves, I'll mend with my pole his jobbernowl Who such foul scorn believes, c 10 THE PINDAR's legend. Our suzerains twain were worthy peers Of the valley and the hill, And squires were we of fair degree Banded for sport and skill. For sport and joyaunce cared we more Than wassail-bowl or wine, Yet aye one lusty pledge went round To the which did all propine : — " ^tout arm, strong Bofc, anti ^teatig tge, 59lnion, true f)tdLti, ant) rourtc^g/' And hands were grasp'd, and jest was pass'd, Amid our sturdy play, As each with different skill by turns His fortune did essay ; ^' To-day luck 's thine, to-morrow mine — Each dog must have his day ; For Hercules beat Hart-o'- Greece, And Hart-o'-Greece beat Hercules." THE Pindar's legend. 11 First came a youth from Woodstock bower, Who had many a guerdon won, Whom dames did style " Childe Robin-Hood," And his mates, *^ Jack Robinson." Right goodly sight it was to view His station* and his aim — How quick and true his arrows flew, Ere you could say his name ! Good at all arms, in Gamwellf Hall Young Scarlet did abide, Where our Valesmen met for sport and ball In the pleasant summer-tide. * Posture. "A station like the herald Mercury."— Shake- speare. t The original Gamwell Hall was the resort of Robin Hood's merry men ; William Gamwell, its heir, passing under the nom de guerre of Scarlet. 12 THE PINDAR's legend. At falchion, quoit, and quarter-staff, He lack'd ne skill ne fame, And eke with shaft and bended bow He put our best to shame. Next James Fitz-James, in good greenwood Best known as Little- John — Like a pillar to the mark he stood, A wight of lusty bone. Good store had he of minstrelsy, Could back a mettled steed, And bent his tough Lancastrian tree With right good aim and heed. Then Sir Edwin, the flower of courtesy, Well knit for sport or strife — A comely man-at-arms rode he. When the wapenschaw was rife. THE Pindar's legend. 13 Then Will- o'- the -Wisp, of fancies quaint, Sir Edwin's buxom fi-ere, Who could vault and bound like a good greyhound, Or at need run down a deer. When the Pindar came to man's estate, Small dandiprats were both, And he would aid their elvish freaks, And watch them wax in growth — Sons of a true and loyal sire, Whose word was as his oath. From Walton-le-Dale, in the canny north, Came William of Cloudeslie — In bowman's craft, and greenwood law. None better skill 'd than he. And with him gay Sir Oliver, From the march of broad Cheshire — 14 THE Pindar's legend. A youth who lack'd not honied word To tickle a lady's ear. Scant cared he for butt or bow, Though a goodly man and tall ; But he won renown when he tired all down At galliard, jig, or brawl.* Friar Tuck oft-times would musing sit, In sad and silent mood ; But when anon the maggot bit, His jibes were wild and shrewd, Jerk'd helter-skelter, left and right, Like his own shafts they flew ; But his bark was rougher than his bite, For the friar was staunch and true. * An ancient French dance, supposed to bear the same resem- blance to the modern galopade as the pavon to the minuet. THE Pindar's legend. 15 Our men of the hill, when he stood still, In good regard aye hore him ; But when his yew at a venture he drew, Cried " Haro!'^"^ and fled before him. A worthy knight was Adam Bell, Who kept good cheer in hall ; And Adam could draw a mighty bow, That foil'd our younkers all. Clerk Thomaline was, like Friar Tuck, Most apt at heathen lore, Of Sir Teucer and Earl Pandarus, Those bowmen bold of yore ; * An ancient expression of alarm, or, rather, appeal to the sovereign, on the origin of which whole pages have been written. " Up sterten Alison and Nicholay, And crieden, out and haro! in the strete."— Chaucer. 16 THE PINDAR's legend. *' And how their cloth-yard arrows flew On battle-fields of Troy, And how Count Paris wrought the bane Of Thetis' princely boy ; '^ How stout Duke Hercules got swamp'd, A-shooting carrion game With Earl Strongbow,* in an Irish bog, , Lough-Stymphalus by name ; " And smote point-blank, at thirteen score, Through hide and carcass sheer. * Our Pindar, like Prior Aymer of Jorvaulx, seems to mix classic and romantic fable in a singular compound. Putting, how- ever, his obvious anachronism out of the question, the alleged Milesian origin of the Irish, among whom Hercules, Ulysses, and Helena, are family names, and the fabled peregrinations of Her- cules beyond the pillars of Gades, afford some excuse for his extra- vagant fiction. THE Pindar's legend. 17 Some son of a black liorse-o:odmother, AVho would trot off his dear." A Avise and manly youth w.as he, And stood good six feet one, And I taught him first to loose a shaft. As did the sage Chiron. Allen-a-Dale had a conjuring tool Bequeath'd by Clym-o'-the-Clough, Therewith so deftly would he shoot. That men would wonder how. Our Scarlet's self, in times of yore. Did yield unto his skill ; Gamelyn and he the bell aye bore 'Mongst bowmen of the hill. Gamelyn at song, or butt, or board, Was a companion good. 18 THE Pindar's legend. And of him I must here record, That once, when in the mood, He worsted Scarlet, Little-John, And eke Childe Robin- Hood ; And bore in token, on his breast, The silver horse,^ our Saxon crest. If mortal wight e*er wore a tail,f It was rare Arthur-o'- Bradley ^ — * The figure of the Saxon Horse, cut in commemoration of Alfred's victory over the Danes at Ashdovs^n, still remains on the Berkshire chalk-hills. Probably some copy of it composed the crest or symbol of the society in question. f Dr. Johnson evidently had read this morceau. Speaking, in his Tour to the Hebrides, of the Laird of Col, an universal genius and mechanist, whose society much gratified him, he says, " If any man has a tail, it is certainly Col." Of the real Arthur we know little, save as the hero of an ancient ballad alluded to in Humphrey Clinker^ and entitled by his name, whether real or imaginary. THE Pindar's legend. 19 With quaint device and gramarye, No hour with him went sadly. Like Tubal- Cain, nought craved in vain The hand of this conynge man — Harp, horloge, harquebuss, or bow, Joint-stool, or pudding-pan. He kenn'd whatever could be kent By alchemist or squire, And for clerkly skill, the monks say still. Could mate his frere the Prior. For Prior and Principal had we, Good men of graver sort. Who scorn'd not in all honesty To witness our disport. Nor lack'd we our High Admiral, Well tried in storm and fight ; 20 THE Pindar's legend. Yet of steed and woodcraft more he kenn'd Than many a landward wight. Nor leave we, by St. George ! unsaid The name of a chieftain sage, Whose hardy deeds are chronicled In England's brightest page. When sunk the humbled crest of France, And peace reign'd far and near. The Lumley laid aside his lance, To grace our forest- cheer : And fitly did that warrior dwell Beside yon veteran tower,* That, unsubdued by shot and shell, Lifts high its front of power. * Donnington Castle. THE Pindar's legend. 21 'Twas merry greeting with this band Of true men every one — The merrier were Sir George at hand, Sir Hogan, and Sir John. Their hearts and doors aye open stood At summer or winter-tide, And they loved the long-bow like their food. With all their kin beside. Sir John de Boteler had won His knightly spurs in Spain ; Sir George had his liege's banner borne On the far Levantine main. It seem'd him good to listen still To the roaring water's shock, So he built his hall by a waterfall That timibled from the rock ; 22 THE Pindar's legend. And whoso bore him as a man Was welcome at his board ; For he set more store by an honest carle Than a losel knight or lord. Sir Hogan was our Verderer And Seneschal to boot ; A post of pains to a wise man's brains, A churl it might not suit. And if good fellows, well-a-day ! Would grudge and strive sans reason, Sir Hogan could their feud allay With a word in timely season. My quips and cranks 'gan mount aloft, Foregathering with these three, And the friendly Monk of Magdalen Towei To join in all our glee ; THE Pindar's legend. 23 Or if (though no Abbot of Misrule) Our trusty Abbot John Would lead the ^' Caput Apri" chant, And say a benison. Our Abbot's voice had goodly range, And ever wax'd most clear When true Sir Thomas of the Grange Did hold high Christmas cheer ; When bows hung idly on the wall, And blazed the yule-clog bright. And the boar's head grinn'd huge in hall, With rosemary bedight, And tales of old times and carol-rhymes Rejoiced squire and knight. Fain would I sing of those fair dames Who graced our Gamwell Hall, And the good Lord William's gentle bride. The flower and pride of all. 24 THE Pindar's LEGENEi. But ladies' names are touch-me-nots To my rude minstrelsy, More wont to sing of sturdy feat, Quaint jest, and revelry. And now perforce I bid 'H' envoy" To such as heed my tale. For my brain and pen are waxing dry, And eke my jack of ale. May St. Hubert speed, in weal and need. Our goodly companie, And our Abbot John still greet each one With his Benedicite. Sing "•Horn soit qui mal j/ pense/' And who will quarrel, may; For in pure good-fellowship and troth The Pindar hath said his saye. LONDON: J. MOVES, CASTLE STREET, LEICESTER SQUARE. LBD19 Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide Treatment Date: March 2009 Preservationlechnologies A WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATION 111 Thomson Park Drive Cranberry Township, PA 16066 ' (724)779-2111 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 014 152 428 8 ^^ '■■;>■-■';.";"''"'■ ^ P u wt M "* 1 : ^"-i