Those who know me will know I have a low-level obsession with the myth of Robin Hood. I have threatened many times over the years to write a novel, and, though I think i’ve talked myself out of it (for reasons that will become clear at the end of this series) I’ve put in a lot of time researching the subject. In this series of blogs, I’m going to throw out a few of my random thoughts. Some of them will be thoroughly cited, others will be loose ideas. I’ll end the series by outlining my current working theory on the identity of the real Robin Hood.
And it’s worth pointing out that I’m not a qualified historian. All of the research I do is in service of finding a story, not a fact. We’ll never know any of this for sure. If in doubt, I always recommend you consult a doctor about that rash, and a historian about the past.
Today, a question about location….
Not in Nottingham?
Of the many controversies, complications, and contradictions of the Robin Hood myth, few remain as contentious as the location. The earliest surviving poems and ballads are split between Barnsdale and Sherwood, while the Sheriff involved always seems to be that of Nottingham, the religious figures often seem to hail from Yorkshire. And while Barnsdale Wood wasn’t all that far from the northern tip of Sherwood in medieval times, it was still a relatively lengthy ride from Nottingham. Barnsdale was never a royal forest, and hunting in it wouldn’t have broken forest law. Barnsdale Wood was much smaller than Sherwood Forest, and not as densely wooded. But at the same time, the term ‘royal forest’ has led to the romantic misconception that Sherwood itself was one large unbroken woodland. A royal forest was simply an area covered by forest law. Sherwood was a large forest, but its borders contained woodland, chases, open fields, and settlements.
A lot of effort has gone into stitching the two different locations together into one unified story, with Robin generally hailing from Yorkshire and operating in both Barnsdale and Sherwood, before drawing the ire of the Sheriff of Nottingham. And there’s no real problem with that. It works. There are details in the surviving earliest ballad (such as mentions of Wentbridge) that seem to confirm the Barnsdale in question to be the one in Yorkshire. In addition, as Loxley became linked to Robin’s background, it was assumed to be the village in Yorkshire, and Little John became associated with Hathersage. Another key location in the ballad is the castle that Robin and John take refuge at, under the protection of Sir Richard at the/of the Lee/Ley. Much work has gone into locating possible contenders for this castle in both Yorkshire and Nottinghamshire, with the one general proviso being that it should be rideable from Nottingham Castle. There remains today some tension between people of southern Yorkshire and Nottingham as to which of them get to claim the world’s most famous outlaw as their own.
But I have some questions about both. Ultimately, the ballads and poems are both brilliant and terrible evidence. They tell us that Robin Hood was firmly established as a folk hero by the mid-1400’s -when the two earliest surviving poems are sourced- and they’re a great slice of social history. They tell us what the people who were sharing these stories cared about, who they saw as heroes and villains. And they’s also far closer to the source than anything else we have, in terms of a narrative. Someone telling the tale of Robin Hood in the mid-1400’s is simply closer to the ‘real events’ than someone telling the tale now. But at the same time, they’re still likely over a century removed from anything resembling the real inspiration of the events, if not two. And so all they tell us for certain is that the person who wrote these stories down, or the person singing the ballad as it was transcribed, was familiar with the Barnsdale of Yorkshire, and its surrounding area.
There is another Barnsdale. It’s only 30 miles south of Nottingham, compared to the 50 miles north of the Yorkshire Barnsdale. Twenty miles isn’t much of a difference by car, but in the thirteenth century it would have been far more significant.
This Barnsdale was part of the large royal forest that covered half of Rutland. And it was near to the old north road. Something I’ve always taken for granted in the Robin Hood myth is that the old north road- Ermine Street- ran through Nottingham on the way to York. And this was why Sherwood became such a frequent haunt for thieves. However, everything I’ve looked at so far suggests that Ermine Street missed Nottingham out completely, running up through Lincoln before taking one of two different routes -depending on the weather and season- to York. Watling Street ran from Dover through London and then up across England, through modern Manchester. There was an offshoot from Watling Street that turned north, passed Nottingham and the edge of Sherwood, to Lincoln. Nottingham was an important location, of course. Of strategic importance, sitting in the middle of the country. That’s why successive Kings spent so much money developing the castle, and why key sieges and battles were staged there. But if you were riding north from London there was no need to go anywhere near Sherwood. Both Barnsdales were closer to Ermine Street than Sherwood was. An outlaw who wanted to steal from people riding north from London might be well placed to spring their attack in Rutland. Beat the competition.
The possibility that Rutland’s Barnsdale was worth looking at was first raised by Dr Stephen Knight. It was pretty quickly dismissed on the basis that it wasn’t known as Barnsdale in the thirteenth century. Back then it was called Bernard’s Hill, and the name became corrupted over time. But to me, the question doesn’t need to be whether it was called Barnsdale at the time of the original events, it only needs to have been called Barnsdale by the time of the poems and ballads.
I first started looking at the Rutland link with an eye to setting a novel there. My bold different take would be to move the story…a few miles south. But the more I read up on the shire, the more coincidental links I could see. Bear in mind, of course, this was as a novelist looking for ways to tie a narrative together, not as a historian researching facts. Through the work of the Rutland Record Society I found thirteenth century references to an area within the royal forest known as ‘The Shire Wood,’ which is believed to have been in the south of the shire, between Barrowden and Tixover. Looking to the north of the Shire Wood, we find St Mary Church in South Luffenham. The early stories of Robin Hood linked him with visits to a shrine or church dedicated to Saint Mary, though it’s usually assumed to be in Nottingham. So here we have a Barnsdale, a Shire Wood, and a church dedicated to Mary, all within easy riding distance of each other, and all covered by forest law.
There’s more. Another pointless historical coincidence to throw into the pile. As I said earlier, one of the puzzle pieces that researchers tend to focus on is the Knight, Sir Richard at the Lee. In the ballad, Sir Richard shelters Robin and John as they flee the Sheriff, protecting them at his castle. The castle itself is described as moated and with a large wall. Finding this castle -and Knight- would help to locate the original source of the legend, as it needs to be within easy riding distance of wherever Robin escaped from, and would give an approximate date for the events.
Leighfield is a civil parish in the west of Rutland. The name comes from the large wood that used to cover that part of the shire, which itself was also contained within the royal forest. There are two former motte and Bailey castle’s nearby. The first, Sauvey Castle, is in Leicestershire, at what would originally have been the western edge of Leighfield/Leyfield/Leefield Forest, is the remains of a thirteenth century castle, with hints of a moat. The second -and more interesting- is at Beaumont Chase, which would have been either within Leighfield or immediately south of it, and shows signs of two baileys. More is known about Sauvey, there are records for who held it, and we know it was mostly used during the thirteenth century as a base for foresters. Less is known about Beaumont Chase, leaving more room for shameless speculation. Neither of them would be a fast ride from Nottingham Castle -though they are closer than the Yorkshire suggestions- but would be easy to get to from Rutland’s seat of justice at Oakham Castle, and not all that far from, say, Rockingham Castle to the south. Over the other side of the shire, just north of Casterton, are the large remains of another moated medieval castle, which was in the hands of the Grelley family in the thirteenth century.
So now we have a Barnsdale, a Shire Wood, two contenders for the Lee/Ley/Leighname and three contenders for the castle, all within a short ride of each other, and all within hiding distance of the old north road.
60 miles West of Rutland -a long ride, but not much different to the distance between Nottingham and Barnsdale- lies the ancient village of Loxley, in Staffordshire. It was in the Domesday book, and certainly existed during the reigns of Richard, John, Henry, and Edward. This Loxley came under the control of the de Ferrers family, who also hand holdings and close social ties to Rutland. Key members of the de Ferrers family were involved in rebellions against the crown at different points in history. You could say they made a habit of it. (I’ll return to them later…)
It’s possible to lay all of these place names and connections out and see a version of the story that could be told without ever venturing north to either Nottinghamshire or Yorkshire. And, while none of this should be seen as proof of anything at all, is it impossible to think the myths of a small area could be stolen over time by a much larger neighbour? It’s also worth noting that, though Rutland is it’s own shire now, at times over the centuries it has been linked -in whole or part- to both Leicestershire and Nottinghamshire. It’s entirely possible that, at the time the events were taking place, Rutland was considered to be the southern tip of Nottingham. So they weren’t even really stealing the story from someone else…
As it stands right now, I’ve come round the the idea that there is a historical basis for the myth, and one which does include Sherwood and Nottingham. I don’t believe these Rutland connections to be anything more than a random collection of interesting coincidences, and an interesting setting for a novel. But if I had the time and resources, I would put some work into digging deeper into the history of the shire, just to be sure…