AD1194

Sheriff Fooled

'Pots! Pots! More of a present than a buy!' The market cry rang out outside the Sheriff's gate. Widows and wives curiously drew round to view the potter's merchandise. 'Pots! Very cheap! I'd hate not to sell all of them!' Everyone who saw him said he hadn't been a potter very long and would stay in business even less. Pots worth five pence were sold for three and all the women knowingly nudged each other: 'Yonder potter will never thrive.' The potter enjoyed himself enormously with a grin here and a wave there between his cheery banter. The pots sold so fast that he soon had but five left which he sent free to the Sheriff's wife. Delighted, she thanked the generous potter: 'Gramercy, how kind. When you come to these parts again, you shall have all my custom.' 'You shall have only the best pots,' answered the potter. 'Come dine with me and the Sheriff,' she courteously invited him. 'Gramercy,' replied the potter; and since he was well acquainted with good manners, he courteously greeted the Sheriff as soon as he entered the hall. The Sheriff's wife happily informed her husband: 'Lo sir, see what the potter has given us, five pots - small and large'. 'Then he is most welcome,' said the Sheriff. As they sat at their meal, two of the Sheriff's men talked of archery and a wager they had made on a shooting match - forty shillings going to the winner. The potter said nothing but listened with an increasing interest. Having completed their excellent meal of mutton, bread and ale, they all went to the archery butts. The Sheriff's men shot their arrows fast, as good archers should, but came nowhere near the mark - half a bow's length was the nearest. Up spoke the proud potter: 'By the cross, if I had a bow you would see some shooting.' The Sheriff ordered a yeoman to fetch some bows and told the potter: 'You seem a strong, stalwart fellow, so let's try you out.' 'This tackle is poor stuff,' said the potter unimpressed with any of the bows that he was given; nevertheless, he pulled the string back to his ear and shot within a foot of the target which widened the eyes of the Sheriff's men.

The Potter Shooting The next time they all shot, the potter split the wooden marker into three pieces with a single arrow and with that won the match. The Sheriff's men looked shamefaced at losing to a potter but the Sheriff laughed at what he thought was a good joke: 'Potter, you are a worthy man to carry a bow.' 'I have a good bow in my cart,' said the potter, 'in truth, given to me by Robin Hood.' 'Do you know Robin Hood?' asked the Sheriff, looking very interested, 'Pray tell me!' 'A hundred times I must have shot with him under his trysting tree.' 'By the Trinity, I would rather have that false outlaw stood by me than a hundred pounds.' 'If you take my advice and boldly go with me tomorrow, we shall see Robin Hood before breakfast.' 'If that is true, I swear I'll reward you well,' promised the Sheriff. At daybreak on the morrow, the potter courteously took his leave of the Sheriff's wife, thanked her for her hospitality and offered her a present. 'For my sake, my lady, will you wear this gold ring?' 'Gramercy, may God reward you,' she said, blushing a little at this unexpected generosity. The potter drove his cart into Sherwood Forest ahead of the Sheriff who serenely rode astride his own palfrey. The birds sang merrily amongst the green leaves and the Sheriff's heart was never so light - he was a joy to behold. When they were well into the forest, the potter told the Sheriff: 'The greenwood is a merry place to be; by my horn, I'll see if Robin Hood is here.' The loud blast of the horn brought men running up fast and the first to appear was the tallest. 'Master, how did it go in Notting- ham?' he asked of the potter. 'Have you sold all your wares?' The tall man was none other than the outlaw Little John and the potter was his leader. The Sheriff stared dumbfounded at the outlaws, dazed by the realisation that the friendly potter was in reality Robin Hood! Robin calmly answered Little John: 'I have sold all my wares with no trouble at all and have brought you a fine present - the Sheriff of Nottingham.' 'What good tidings,' said Little John. 'He is most welcome.' At that moment the Sheriff would have given £100 never to have set eyes on Robin Hood. 'If I had known this back home in Nottingham, you would not have returned to the forest in a 1,000 years,' he said, at last finding his voice. 'I know that well enough,' said Robin, 'and that is why you are going to leave your horse with us and all your other gear.' 'God forbid I should lose all my goods!' 'Swiftly on horseback you came and slowly on foot you can go home. And don't forget to greet your wife kindly, for she is an excellent lady. I am sending her a white palfrey that will give her a smooth and easy ride. Were it not for your wife, you would be singing far more sorrows!' The Sheriff walked all the way home to Nottingham where his wife welcomed him at the door: 'Sir, how have you fared in the green forest? Have you brought Robin Hood home with you?' 'Lady, the devil take Robin Hood - body and bone! The potter has made a fool of me. He has taken all the goods that I took into the greenwood and he is sending you a gift of a white palfrey.' His wife must have a sense of humour for she laughed out loud: 'In faith, you have more than paid for all the pots that Robin gave me!'

The proud Sheriff of Nottingham serving a writ issued by the King’s brother John, Earl of Nottingham and Gloucester

13 Ballad of the Butcher

Come around you folks and listen for a while, For this tale of Robin Hood may bring a smile. On a forest trail the good archer did spy, A jolly butcher who came passing by. 'What price do sell and where do you dwell?' asked Robin. The butcher said: 'Four marks I'll surely get at Nottingham.' To the butcher, Robin paid his full fee And on to Nottingham - a butcher to be.

To the Sheriff first to ply his butcher's trade; Then he sold his meat for just one penny paid. Sold his meat so fast other butchers could not thrive, Against his penny some others charged five. 'Your pocket is full, some prodigal,' said the butchers, 'We'll all going to the Sheriff's house, won't you dine with us?' The Sheriff's wife tended to their wine and dine; Robin said: 'I will pay, for the bill is mine.'

With this rich fellow the Sheriff was impressed. The Sheriff asked: 'Have you horned beasts of the best?' 'Yes I have and you'll find they're the best you will see; Bring out your gold and I'll take you where they be.' In green Sherwood they found herds of red deer roamed there-in. 'Here are my beasts, so thanks for your gold,' said Robin. The Sheriff said: 'I've been had, I'm fast away.' Robin said: 'Tell your wife it's been a nice day.'

Silver Arrow Contest

The Silver Arrow Contest that took place at Butt-dyke outside Nottingham's town walls caused chaos and mayhem. The contest was won by Robin Hood but there then followed a ferocious battle between the Sheriff's men and Robin's band of outlaws. In the uproar and confusion amid flying arrows and clashing swords, panic broke out with women shrieking in fright and chil- dren being trampled underfoot. The Sheriff had sparked off the fight when his men tried to arrest Robin Hood only moments after he himself had presented Robin with the winning Silver Arrow. The outlaws, led by Robin Hood, left a trail of wounded Sheriff's men in their wake as they fought themselves out of the ambush and fled into the forest. The archery contest had started peacefully enough with not the slightest hint of the mayhem to come. Fields around gleamed brightly with coloured tents pitched by traders and competitors who had come from afar. Young men had brought their fighting cocks and watched them do battle while others held contests in leaping, wrestling, putting the stone and throwing the thronged javelin beyond a mark - all done with plenty of gusto and in a sporting spirit. In one corner of the field, a laughing crowd assembled around some lads engaged in a 'grinning’ match. Many of the younger lads and lasses danced around a garlanded maypole. Hawkers of drinks, sweetmeats and pasties walked amongst the crowd, crying their wares; a palmer recently returned from the Holy Land tried to sell his sacred relics - it was just like any ordinary fair. Most people ignored the bull and bear baiting. In this so-called sport, great bulldogs attack these fine animals which are tied to a stake. The bull and bear, with no means of escape, defend them- selves with all their force and skill, sometimes injuring and killing the dog, though this is not the end of the fight. The organisers supply fresh dogs and sometimes whip the bear to provoke its fury. You have to be bloodthirsty to watch this so-called sport.

Bear Baiting Cock Fighting

Local Knights and Ladies Most people had come to witness the archery contest and so the largest number of spectators gathered around the archery butts. The local knights and their ladies, surrounded by their entourage of waiting-women, children, squires, pages and hounds, occupied the best seats in the stand, over which an awning had been placed in case the sun became too hot. You could feel the excitement in the air. Expecting to see some fine shooting, no one was disappointed. Two of the Sheriff's men had already paced out the hundred yards from the marksman's stand to the butts and placed two targets made of wheat-straw faced with cloth and painted with black, yellow and white rings. An anticipation had been mounting from the very first day the Sheriff had announced the great contest for all the archers of the North. Who would prove to be the best archer in the North of England? Everybody believed him to be Robin Hood but weren't sure whether he would come. They hoped he would. Everyone wanted to see the great archer shoot and safe to say, all the locals wanted to see him win. Never mind the North, wasn't he the best archer in all England? All the money being wagered proclaimed he was. Whoever shot furthest and straightest at a pair of targets would win the magnificent arrow like no other in England with its tip and shaft made of white silver and feathers of rich red gold. Many bold archers were already shooting when Robin Hood did arrive. Six of his men had arranged to shoot with him, but unknown at the time, seven score of his men with their bows at the ready were amongst the crowd. Robin Hood obviously did not trust the Sheriff.

Accuracy The shooting was best described as incredible. For an arrow to miss the bull's eye was a rarity. Unblinking, intensely focused with strong arms, the archers pulled the strings back from their bows, and the thudding of arrows unerringly into the target was closely followed by rousing cheers from the crowd. The crowd bubbled over with expectation when Robin stepped up to the mark to shoot and cheers were long and loud when his arrow found the bull's eye. As their excitement grew, the crowd strained forward for a better view. The air grew hotter and so did the contest as Gilbert with the White Hand also hit the bull's eye every time, just the same as Robin Hood. The apparent ease with which this feat was achieved caused the onlookers to hold their breath in amazement. Little John, Will Scarlet and Much shot well, but not well enough, and had to drop out. Archers were eliminated one by one till Robin Hood and Gilbert were the only two left in the contest. A willow wand replaced the targets and the crowd became hushed - you could hear a pin drop. Robin Hood split the wand with his first arrow. Gilbert, for the first and only time that afternoon missed, and it was enough to lose him the contest. Robin Hood split the wand with both of his next two arrows to prove he was the best archer in the North of England. The crowd cheered heartily as Robin stepped forward to courte- ously accept the gift of the Silver Arrow prize presented to him by the Sheriff.

Uproar and Confusion Up to this moment it had been a grand sporting occasion, the finest archery contest you could ever be privileged to watch. Everything then turned into chaos. The Sheriff shouted to his men: 'Hold Robin Hood!' This order was immediately followed by horns being blown, cries and loud shouts. 'Woe is this day!’ Robin shouted at the Sheriff. 'And woe to you, proud Sheriff, for making light of your word in the forest! The truth is that the Sheriff had earlier sworn on his bright sword not to harm Robin Hood or any of his men. Unparalleled uproar and confusion then followed. Men were shouting, women shrieking and children screaming as bows bent to the full and arrows flew fast and furious. Many a kirtle was rent and bodies fell wounded. The outlaws shot their arrows so power- fully that the Sheriff's men could not get their hands on Robin, who fought his way towards his own men. Then led by Robin, fighting with both sword and bow, the band of outlaws broke out of the Sheriff's ambush and headed for the greenwood. A hail of arrows from the Sheriff's men followed them and Little John fell wounded with an arrow in his knee. Sadly, he could neither walk nor ride. 'Master,' Little John pleaded with Robin, 'if you have any love for me and for the rewards of my service to you, don't let the Sheriff catch me alive. Take out my bright sword and smite me so deep and wide that no life is left within me.' 'I could not cause your death, John, if all the gold in merry England was heaped in front of me,' answered Robin. 'God forbid, Little John, that you should part our company,’ cried Much the Miller’s Son who lifted the big man on to his back and carried him a good mile into the greenwood, stopping every now and then to lay him down and shoot off an arrow. The whole band of outlaws disappeared into the greenwood with the Sheriff's men not far behind. A witness later reported that he had seen the outlaws heading for the castle of Sir Richard at the Lee with the Sheriff's men still in hot pursuit. A day containing all the skill and pleasurable excitement that anyone could wish for had ended in innocent people being injured. A great sporting contest, indeed a grand spectacle, had been turned into an ugly battle and no doubt where the blame lay - at the Sheriff's door. Robin Hood won the Silver Arrow but all the Sheriff gained was infamy. 14 Ballad of Little John

When Robin Hood was a young outlaw, He happened to meet Little John; A jolly brisk blade right fit for the trade For he was a lusty young man. Though he was called Little his limbs were large And his stature was seven foot high; Wherever he came they quaked at his name, For soon he would make them all fly.

They met by chance on a narrow bridge And neither of them would give way; Quoth bold Robin Hood who sturdily stood: 'I'll show you fine Nottingham play!' At first Robin gave the stranger a bang So hard it made all his bones ring; The stranger he said: 'This must be repaid, I'll give you as good as you bring.' The stranger cracked Robin on his crown Which soon caused the blood to appear. Then Robin enraged, more fiercely engaged, And followed his blows more severe. So thick and so fast did he lay it on him With great passion, fury an ire, So with every stroke Robin made him smoke, As if he had been all on fire.

The stranger began to lose his cool And gave the outlaw damning looks; And with them a blow that laid him full low And tumbled him into the brook. 'I prithee good fellow, where art thou now?' The stranger in laughter he cried. Quoth bold Robin Hood: 'Good faith in the floodI'm floating along with the tide.' He presently waded to the bank And pulled himself out by a thorn; Which done at the last he blowed a loud blast Straightway on his fine bugle horn. The valleys did resound with its echoes, At which his stout bowmen appeared; Dressed in Lincoln green, a sight to be seen, So up to their master they steered.

The outlaw said: 'Don't fret my stout friend, These bowman all on me do wait; There's three score and nine if thou wilt be mine, Thou shalt have my livery straight.' 'I'll give you my good hand,' the stranger said, 'And I'll serve you with all my heart. My name is John Little, a man of good mettle, Ne'er doubt me for I'll play my part.

King Richard King Richard Released

After holding King Richard to ransom the Holy Roman Emperor King Henry has at last released him. On 2 February King Henry called a meeting with his Princes of Germany at Mainz to finalise the terms. Richard’s friends among the Princes persuaded Henry to moderate his greed and the ransom was definitely set at 150,000 Marks, though the Emperor added one more condition - Richard had to agree to hold the Kingdom of England as a vassal of Henry and pay him 5,000 Marks a year. Queen Mother Eleanor, who had been invited to the meeting, wisely advised her son to agree and only then was Richard finally released. King Richard and his mother, Queen Eleanor, then began their triumphal journey home, voyaging down the River Rhine and those princes with whom Richard had made alliances received them with honour whenever the couple stepped ashore. At Cologne, Richard was lavishly entertained by the Archbishop and crowds turned out in their thousands to welcome back a hero from the crusade - accounts of his valiant deeds in the Holy Land had travelled ahead of the couple. Setting sail from Antwerp in a vessel sent from Rye, the couple were held up for a week by gales in the mouth of the Scheldt but eventually arrived at Sandwich on 14 March. The radiance of the bright sunny morning was taken as a good omen by the cheering, welcoming crowd.

Durnstein Castle

King Richard’s Capture On his journey to crusade King Richard had fallen foul of Em- peror Henry. Our King had allied himself with King Tancred of Sicily, an island to which the Emperor laid claim; he had also fallen out with Duke Leopold of Austria who felt insulted when King Richard tore down his banner from the town wall during the siege of Acre. So when the King took his route home through Germany he travelled incognito disguised as a merchant with just a few companions. He knew he would be safe through Saxony since his eldest sister Matilda was married to Henry ‘the Lion’ of Saxony but he never got that far. He could not help being every inch a king and his lavish spending in grand style aroused suspicions. Duke Leopold arrested him and imprisoned him in Durnstein Castle, and for the sum of 75,000 Marks, Duke Leopold handed the King over to Emperor Henry. As soon as Earl John heard of his brother’s capture in Austria, he crossed the channel to meet King Philip of France. Earl John was telling everyone that his brother would never return and that he himself was going to seize power whilst King Philip was taking his opportunity to invade King Richard’s lands in Normandy.

Queen Eleanor

All this while Queen Mother Eleanor was doing her utmost to gain Richard’s release. She called out the fyrdmen in the south- west when she heard that Earl John and King Philip were muster- ing a fleet at Wissant to invade England. ‘By order of Queen Eleanor, who rules England: at Passiontide and Easter and there- after, nobles and common people, knights and peasants, fly to arms and guard the sea coast that looks towards Flanders.’ The would-be invaders dallied and lost heart. Earl John secretly landed back in England and invited the Welsh and Scots to join him in rebellion. Though some Welsh mercenaries did, King William of the Scots refused. So Earl John installed his troops in the castles of Wallingford, Windsor, Tickhill and Nottingham. This made it rather awkward for the people of Nottingham as their fealty belonged to Earl John as their lord, as well as to Rich- ard as their King. In a tense situation a truce was agreed between the King’s Justiciars and Earl John where the castles of Wallingford and Windsor were handed over to Queen Eleanor while Earl John retained Tickhill and Nottingham.

King Richard Arriving at Sandwich

King Richard at the Shrine of St. Edmund Hero’s Welcome For Our King After landing at Sandwich King Richard visited the shrine of St Thomas Becket in Canterbury Cathedral before receiving a great rapturous welcome in London. After a thanksgiving service at St. Paul's, Richard made yet another pilgrimage to the shrine of St. Edmund at Bury to give thanks to God for his safe return. It was only then that our King set about dealing with his rebellious brother's supporters.

Never Use Cheap Armour

Guaranteed to resist sword, lance,and arrows. Money returned if not satisfied (Widows claims invalid) Roger Smith, Castle Gate, Nottingham

Earl John Treachery

Earl John

Now coming to light is further evidence of Earl John's treachery- King Philip and Earl John had clubbed together and offered to buy King Richard from Emperor Henry for 100,000 marks; or alterna- tively pay 1,000 lb. of silver each month for as long as he kept him captive in Germany. Emperor Henry, tempted by this offer, delayed King Richard's release - it seemed that if we wanted our King back we had to bid higher than the French. And what is so enraging everyone in the South-West and Midlands, is that taxes collected by Earl John for his brother's ransom were actually going towards keeping him captive! But on hearing the news of King Richard's release, King Philip sent a message to Earl John: 'Look to yourself; the devil is loosed.' Anticipating his brother's wrath on his return home, Earl John fled across the channel to join King Philip. None of Earl John's castles had been seized until Richard's actual arrival at Sandwich which prompted a speedier reaction. The keeper of St. Michael's mount in Cornwall died of fright as soon as he heard that the King had landed. The castles of Marlborough and Lancaster immediately surren- dered but those of Tickhill and Nottingham were still holding out; their garrisons believed Earl John when he told them that King Richard was dead. Hugh, Bishop of Durham, was besieging Tickhill Castle when the garrison sent out two knights to check, if indeed, King Richard had returned. On discovering the truth, they offered to surrender as long as the King promised not to put them to death. Bishop Hugh assured them on his own authority of their safety in life and limb. David, Earl of Huntingdon, brother of the King of Scots, was besieging Nottingham Castle, the garrison continuing to resist. Stone throwers, siege machines, chains, shields, arrows, bolts and Greek fire had all been brought up outside the castle to support the besiegers.

Ye Olde Trip To Jerusalem Under Nottingham Castle’s Wall

Enjoy Nottingham’s ‘Rock Cellar’ Beer Brewed & Stored at Even Climate Finest Fare at Keenest Prices A Balm for Weary Travellers Storming a Castle

To attack Nottingham Castle, or any castle, is an awesome task. Since the south and west cliffs are 130 feet high, the defenders only have to defend the north and east and if you look closely at the Castle's fortifications on these two sides you will find that the walls are very strong. And the watch towers are regularly spaced ahead of the Castle wall putting any assailant well within range of the deadly arrows and missiles of the defenders. This outer wall is 40 feet high and 15 feet thick at the bottom stretching 100 yards either side of the Castle gate and surmounted with battlements reinforced with six bastions at regular intervals. It would need a big siege engine to break through these walls. Alternatively, you could storm the Castle gate but you would need to first cross the outer stone bridge over the ravine and overcome the drawbridge, not forgetting that the Castle gate is flanked by two drum towers with slit windows for firing arrows at you as you attack. Forcing your way through the Castle gate is only the first step. At the top of the hill you will have to cross another bridge, followed by a moat with a drawbridge that has another gate for you to fight through, before you reach the main stronghold.

Castle Gate

If by some miracle you have breached this gate you will face the impregnable keep. Built of squared stone 15 feet thick, cemented with mortar that sets like stone, the rectangular keep is four stories high with a tower at each corner and pilaster buttresses. There are no windows, only loop-holes through which defenders fire arrows at you. You can only enter the keep from one direction - up an outside staircase at the top of which you'll find the first of three doors. The passage above the first door holds arrow-loops to enable defenders to snipe at you. Having battled past that, more arrows will come at you from a slit above the middle door before a flight of steps takes you up to the first floor. Confronting you now is a portcullis where boiling lead will pour down on your head from holes above the door. Narrow steps take you up to the top floor and final stronghold usually occupied by the Governor who will fight to hold the Castle till his dying breath. Unless your name is Richard the Lionheart it is advisable not to try and storm this formidable Castle.'

Castle Attack

Nottingham Castle Keep

On 25 March, King Richard arrived outside Nottingham Castle gates accompanied by a loud blowing of trumpets and horns and a multitude of men. Greatly disturbed as the garrison was, they still refused to accept that King Richard was alive, believing that it was a ruse to weaken their resolve. The King pitched his tents so close to the castle walls that one of the archers on the battlements shot dead one of the King's men right at his feet. In his anger, Richard put on his armour and headed an assault on the castle.

King Richard Just as he had done in the Holy Land, he led the bravest of the men into the hottest part of the fight to such good effect that he captured the outer works, burned some of the gates and killed a knight with his own hand. King Richard then erected a gallows outside the castle gate in plain view of the garrison; and when Bishop Hugh added his own forces to the besiegers and displayed the prisoners that he had taken at Tickhill in front of the castle, the garrison wavered. The Constable of the castle sent out two knights under a safe conduct to see if the King was truly present and sure enough they found him dining with Bishop Hugh. 'Well now, what do you think? Am I the king or not?' asked the King when they stumbled into his tent.

Knights Kneel

'You are,' they quiveringly replied and immediately knelt before their sovereign, King Richard, before he sent them scurrying back to the castle with their confirmation to the Constable. The garrison now saw what everyone else could see - that it was folly for them to hold out against the greatest warrior of our time. Later that night, William of Wenneval, Roger Muntbegun and twelve others surrendered themselves directly to the King, throw- ing themselves upon the mercy of their sovereign. Early the next day, the entire garrison surrendered. No doubt the threatening gallows had played some part in bring- ing about the castle's surrender, though no person was actually hanged on it, but the presence of King Richard the Lionheart was enough to bring the castle garrison to their senses. The King triumphantly took possession of the castle and feasted his gallant knights and nobles. Meeting of Great Council King Richard journeyed to the King’s Houses at Clipstone, nor- mally used by royalty for hunting game, to meet William, King of Scotland. On his way through Sherwood Forest it appears that he has pardoned the outlaw Robin Hood and all his men and given his blessing to the betrothal of Robin Hood and Maid Marian, who is the daughter of Sir Richard at the Lea who will give her away at Edwinstowe church. He has also surveyed the area between Blyth and Tickhill, near the hamlet of Styrrup, as an area for tournaments. A tournament field, a combatant field, an enclosure named gallant stand and a nearby ridge for spectators have been earmarked. At the Great Council meeting held at Nottingham Castle, King Richard ruled that only five places in the country could be licensed for tournaments including the one at Blyth.

Editor’s View

‘Grant me your hand in marriage and your lands in Essex, Surrey, Nottinghamshire . . .’ Sherwood Forest

Sherwood Forest can be a delight and a danger. It stretches more than 20 miles long and 8 miles wide from Worksop manor to Nottingham, and it takes in the Hundreds of Bassetlaw, Broxtowe and Thurgarton. Mighty oak trees, irrepressible silver birches, occasional Scots pine and small-leafed lime make up the forest - have done so for thousands of years. And lying beneath the mighty oaks is an under-storey of younger birch and oak, holly, hawthorn and occasional wild cherry, almost impenetrable but for the clearings of bracken, bramble and the endless varieties of grasses. The dryness of the soil does not restrict the wild life. The flashing flight of swifts, swallows and collared doves bring life to the upper air and the hovering skylarks provide a merry song. The wood anemone, primrose, bluebell, early purple orchid, wild garlic, yel- low archangel, campion and foxglove brighten the greenwood where perchance the sun has pushed its way through the canopy of trees. Even in the poorer sandstone soil the purple heather and ferns reach waist-high. In abundance are herbs to garnish your dinner or cure your headache; and late in summer you can indulge in the various succulent nuts and fruit. A few pennies can be made - poorer people pick the bilberries and sell them throughout the shire. There is timber for building, for your fire, tools and furniture, though in Thorney Wood the thickly wooded tracks barely give access - the entangled branches so twist together that they scarcely allow you to pass through. The High Forest of towering oaks and glades of grassland is more accessible and provides grazing for red, roe and fallow deer which come under the protection of the Forest Law. Kings, past and present, have designed these laws to protect the beasts of the chase purely for their princely delight, and so all of Sherwood Forest has been set aside so that they can indulge themselves in the pleasures of hunting.

15 Ballad of the Curtal Friar

In Sherwood lived a friar Who all said drew a longbow. Robin Hood, curious to know, Off to find him he did go.

Fountains Dale he did abide, Walking by the river side. Robin said: 'A good man be, O'er this water carry me'.

But when they reached the far side, The friar then drew his sword, And said to Robin: 'No more! Now you carry me, outlaw!'

Robin carried him aboard Where he then drew his own sword, And saying: 'Now curtal friar, Do carry me back over!'

With the water deepening, The friar tipped him right in, And said: 'Now choose sink or swim!' And a sword fight did begin.

They both fought hard and main From morn into afternoon. When Robin became too worn; Begged the friar for a boon:

On his horn Robin blew, Robin's band came into view, All in Lincoln green so free Came ranging o'er the lea.

The friar said: 'What's to be? What is it you want from me?' Robin said: 'Join us Sundays And all of the holy days'.

'Go to Nottingham with me; Wear new garments that are free, With a noble as your fee.' The friar did so agree,

It had been some eight long years, Maybe it was even more That no knight, earl, or high lord, Made the friar yield before.

16 Ballad of Alan a Dale

'I’ve no money,' the young man said 'But just five shillings and a ring, That I have kept for seven years, Safely saved up for my wedding. I should be wed to a fair maid, Alas she has been taken, She’s chosen as some knight's delight, And now by heart is broken.' ‘What is your name', asked Robin Hood, 'Do tell me without any fail.' 'By my good faith,' said the young man, 'I am known as Alan a Dale.' So hasted Robin over the plain Without no stint nor dawdling, Till he’d arrived inside this church Where there is to be a wedding. 'Why are you here? the Bishop asked, I prithee that you tell to me.' So Robin said: 'I'm a harper, The very best in this county!' Into the church came this rich knight, Who looked grave and far too old. Following him this fine young lass - Shining just like glistening gold. So Robin said: ‘It’s no fit match,' And on his horn he blew blasts three. Where Robin's bowmen with Alan, Entered the church from o’er the lea. Robin said: ‘Lass, here's your true love, Alan a Dale, I hear say; You two shall be wed at this time, Fore we go smiling on our way.' Who is to give this young maid away? Bold Robin Hood said: 'That do I, Whoever takes her from Alan, Full dearly, he will have to buy.' So ended this merry wedding, The bride she looked like a queen. So they returned to the greenwood Among the leaves so green-o.

Editors View

‘I will strive at all times to be a wise, fair and just ruler, only gaoling those who question my authority!’

Ladies Fashion

Do you prefer traditional style or more up to date? Why not try both? The lady carrying the fruit bowl is more fashionable in her gown of scarlet silk. Clinging to the figure, the gown touches the ground at the hem but has been lifted at the sides to create elegant folds at the front. The right sleeve with its deep hanging cuff has been knotted to prevent it touching the ground; and her left forearm has been left bare by rolling up the sleeve of her undergarment. The neckline is round and ornamented in silver. Her flat slippers, just visible from under the hem, are made of scarlet leather.

The lady feeding the doves wears an over-dress of fine blue wool hanging loosely to the hem from a close, round neckline. Three-quarter-length sleeves expose part of her close-fitting sleeves of grey under-down. The cloak is a blue woollen fabric, made in an oval shape and drawn together at the base of the throat by a jewelled brooch. Her slippers are made from soft brown leather.

Great Market

Nottingham Market Place (French Borough)

Charter Granted by King Henry II. Men of Nottinghamshire ought to come to the Borough of Nottingham with their Teams & Horse Loads

At Home

Fitting Out a Lady's Bedchamber Hang your curtain, or a scenic canopy, around the walls to help keep out draughts, flies and spiders. A tapestry should hang appropriately from a pole. Have a chair and a stool close to the bed with a bench nearby to help you with your toilet. On the bed itself should be placed a feather mattress to which a bolster is attached and covered with a quilted pad of striped cloth. On top of this you should place a cushion for your head. Next lay sheets of muslin, ordinary cotton, or at least pure linen, and cover this with a coverlet of green cloth, or coarse wool with a lining of badger, cat, beaver, or sable - if you lack purple and down. Provide yourself with a pole from which you can hang your clothing and close by a perch for your hawk to rest. Your chambermaid should have a face possessing charm that renders a tranquility within the chamber. When she finds time she may knit or unknit silk thread, or make knots of silk thread, or sew linen garments and woollen clothes, or may mend. She must have a leather thimble to protect her from needle pricks. Provide her with scissors, a spool of thread and various sizes of needles - small and thin for embroidery; others not so thin for feather stitching; moderately fine ones for ordinary sowing; bigger one for the knitting of a cloak and still larger ones for threading laces.

The Pleasures of Marriage If a wife hears a child scream when she comes into the house, sees the cat at the bacon, the dog at the hide, her cake burning on the stove, her calf suckling up all the milk, the pot boiling over on the fire and her husband scolding their eldest son, does she not wonder why she tried marriage at all?

Editor’s View

'I thought you could use one measuring rule for buying cloth and a different one for selling it.’

Judgment of Pillory

For selling a peck of stinking eels or a stinking partridge; oats that are only good on the outside; bread not of full weight; or tokens made of brass and passed off as gold. For enhancing the price of corn; cutting a certain purse; taking a child away to go begging with him; or using a false dice to deceive people. Best Bread

Bread of the finest wheat is best to eat, But till it comes by, Try oats and barley and rye.

A Kitchen Maid She should place eggs under the sitting hens, give mixed rye and wheat to the geese, and gently feed the ailing lambs with milk from an ewe other than their mother’s. She will keep the calves to be weaned, whose teeth are few, in an enclosure near the barn. Normally she will give whey to the swineherd, ploughmen and other herdsmen, but to the master and his friends she will offer cups of curds. In the evening she may offer bran bread to the dogs in the pen. New clothes ought to be provided for her on holidays.

An Upstairs Maid She should exclude the intemperate air by wafting with a shirt. A band or a hair net should refrain her flowing hair and she should have a necklace and a brooch by which she can fasten the neck opening of her cote or fustian. She may have bracelets and an earring.

Medicinal Herbs Hiding in the woods and hedgerows are many varied plants. They hold within their leaves, flowers or roots, a means of improv- ing and curing a variety of human conditions. They may be dried in the sun after cleansing, then powdered by grinding, or they may be simmered - a handful to a jug of water - and taking the resulting liquid. Take the leaves first: coltsfoot is effective for colds; catmint induces perspiration; yarrow reduces temperature; watercress purifies the blood; raspberry is a tonic and eases dysentery; and thyme helps with flatulence. To ease the pain of stings rub them with the leaves of plantain. The roots of the dandelion improve the blood; gentian is a general tonic; burdock cures skin troubles and kidney problems; marshmellow gets rid of coughs but bryony cures both coughs and colds. The flowers of camomile improve the nerves and those of the elder cure sore throats and inflammations; celery seeds ease rheumatism. Herbs provide seasoning in food to suit all tastes but do not ignore their curative powers - a boon for the sick. And don’t forget the rules of the Salerno school:

From your head care to keep, from wrath your heart; Drink not too much wine, sup light, and early rise; When meat has gone, long sitting breedeth smart; When you find yourself moved to Nature’s needs, Forbear them not, for that much danger breeds. Use three physicians only: first Doctor Quiet, Next Doctor Merryman and Doctor Diet. Hints The ringing of St. Mary’s church bell is not just to acquaint the neighbourhood that a person has died. Whoever hears the bell must offer up prayers for the soul that is passing and to drive away the evil spirits which wait about the house ready to seize their prey, or molest their soul in passage. The bell and prayers will allow the soul to pass quickly away unmolested. Don’t kill ladybirds. This insect is dedicated to the Virgin Mary which is why it is called the ‘Beetle of Our Lady’. They eat the scaly insects, thrips and mites that eat your green plants. So protect the ladybirds - they are your friends. If you can find a soapwort plant that grows near streams, boil the leaves in water - it makes a lathery liquid suitable for washing. The day of St. Thomas, the blessed divine, is good for brewing, baking and killing fat swine. Coalwort and ragwort excite love but psyllium seed offers a marvelous cure for it.

Weather Watch If the bees stay at home Rain will soon come; If they fly away Fine will be the day And a wet May brings loads of hay Hazards of Ice Skating

The marsh was a sheet of ice with an occasional clump of green poking through trying to add something to the Christmas festival. The wading birds had deserted and the abundant blue crocuses had yet to show. The sun was all display with little warmth but the air was lively, full of shouts and squeals, as dense numbers of lads and lasses from the town glided and gambolled over the ice. It seemed as if the marshes had been deliberately placed here just for their winter enjoyment. One or two were spending more time on their backsides than on their feet after having boosted their courage by supping a jug of ale or glasses of wine. Valour com- pletely succumbed to caution for some who retired to the Trip to Jerusalem to partake some ale and take up the less dangerous position of resting their backsides in a chair. Some spread their feet apart and drove themselves along by flapping their arms like windmills. Others, more skilled, lashed shinbones of beasts to their feet and with a wooden stick in each hand pushed themselves over the ice like birds in flight. Sometimes, by agreement, they would charge each other like knights using their sticks as lances trying to knock each other over; but it wasn’t the enthusiastic charging of budding knights that caused the chaos, it was little more than a dog and a bone. Perhaps the bone came adrift from someone’s foot - no one will ever know for sure - but what we do know is that as the bone came sliding over the ice, the dog came bounding and slithering after it, oblivious to everything else on the ice. The first skater encountering the dog had his legs sent straight up in the air. The second skater did a little better, hung on to his balance for an instant but then bumped into the fellow in front bringing them both crashing down flat. Cannily or caninely, the dog had picked the area most densely packed with skaters. The lad and lass holding hands were unable to avoid the mayhem and found themselves seated on the ice still holding hands. From then on it became a slithering cascade of skaters rapidly becoming horizontal. Meanwhile, oblivious to it all, the dog had the bone between its teeth and was heading rapidly towards the town finding no difficulty keeping its own feet - the advantages of four feet over two plainly obvious. One broken arm, several painful bumps and one or two cases of bruised dignity were the resultant damage. Enthusiasm wasn’t dampened. Picking themselves up and brushing off the loose ice, the skaters simply glided on - making no bones about it.

‘ Portrait of a Knight

William Marshal

William is a tall, dark-eyed handsome man with well and straight limbs and as good a height as any gentleman can have. He holds a code of honour as genuine as those of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table. William was born in England in 1145 and though spending most of his early life in Normandy he has always considered himself English. William's grandfather served as a marshal at the court of Henry I, hence his name - a marshal is a subordinate of the constable who controls the lord's stables and horses. The office is hereditary but since William was the fourth son he succeeded to nothing and had to pay his own way in life by joining the tournament circuit. Endowed with enthusiasm and an extraordinary skill at arms, he made himself the Hero of the Tournaments becoming the greatest soldier of his age - with the sole exception of King Richard. William joined the household of his mother's brother, Patrick of Salisbury, and when King Henry II selected Patrick to escort Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine to Poitiers there began William's long allegiance to the royal family - an allegiance that also includes Earl John. He is forever true and generous, always keeps his word and is as unshakeably loyal to King Richard as he was to his father King Henry II.

Hero of the Tournaments In open field without foxing, never in ambush, is where William confronts his enemy. Depending upon his own fighting ability, the quality of his armour, the expertise of his charger, he never relies on the foot-soldier to defend him. And he would never dream of fighting as a foot-soldier, only battling astride his horse like a true champion. The word fear has never found its way into his vocabulary. When only a boy, his father gave him to King Stephen as a hostage during Stephen's war with Empress Matilda and when the King threatened to hang the boy, William's father merely replied: 'The boy's life matters little to me for I possess the hammer and forge to produce another such - even finer.' When William wanted to play with the javelin of the knight escort- ing him to the gallows, swing on the very catapult by which they were going to project his dead body over the walls and asked what game the two armies were playing, King Stephen's heart melted and he treated William as if he was his own son. With peace restored, William was sent to his uncle in Normandy who held a powerful castle mustering nearly a hundred knights, and it was here, in this world of hunting, horses, cavalcades and manly sports where he learned the art of fighting on horseback. He became a squire and some eight years later his uncle dubbed him a knight by striking his shoulders with a sword. The sword was William's only possession. With his apprenticeship over he now had to feed himself and so he set out to fight in the tournaments. In his first tourney, William captured four and a half prisoners - he shared the fifth with a companion - and began to astonish every- one with his horsemanship and skill with weaponry. He was joined by Young Henry, eldest son of King Henry, and after two years had raised the English team to the front rank. In the next five years he captured hundreds of knights in tourneys. After one tournament, the ladies decided to present him with a large pike because he was the knight who had fought most worthily and after much searching they found him kneeling in the black- smith's shop with his head on the anvil. William had received so many blows to his helmet, twisting it and bending it, that the blacksmith was having to knock it back into shape to get it off. William learned that no knight could survive on his own - what he needed was the patronage of a wealthy household so he returned to England to join the household of his mother's brother, Patrick of Salisbury,

A Chivalrous Knight On their way to Poitiers, Queen Eleanor's party ran into trouble. Travelling through Normandy, the Lusignans struck from ambush, one of them stabbing Patrick of Salisbury in the back. An enraged William Marshal charged forward like a lion, attacking a dozen of the ambushers at once until a lance pierced his thigh and he fell wounded from his horse. The Lusignans then carried him off as a ransom prize, not bothering to dress his wounds. When Queen Eleanor learned of William's plight, she ransomed him back, fed him, and gave him money and arms. From then on his allegiance to Queen Eleanor never wavered. When William's enemies accused him of sleeping with Young Henry's wife, daugh- ter of King Louis of France and an admirer of William, he claimed trial by combat to prove his innocence. He offered to confront the three most valorous champions, one after the other; or alternatively, cut off any finger of his right hand and fight any one of his accusers. When King Henry refused his offer, William set off on a pilgrimage to Cologne to visit the relics of the Three Wise Men in the hope of being washed clean of all suspicion. Unfortunately Young Henry died of dysentry and on his deathbed bequeathed the cross he had taken as a crusader to William.

William the Crusader

'Carry it to the Holy Sepulchre and pay my debt to God,' Henry pleaded, and so William did. After two years fighting in Syria with Guy of Lusignan, King of Jerusalem, William returned home to join King Henry, who was fighting his two remaining sons Richard and John. It was during a skirmish in Normandy that William had his famous encounter with Richard: hard on the heels of William's rearguard, Richard was suddenly confronted by William, who had turned and charged with lance levelled. Neither wore armour since neither expected a fight, and Richard was at William's mercy. Richard pleaded: 'By God's legs, do not kill me, Marshal, for I am unarmed.' William answered: 'No, let the devil kill you, for I won't,' and he ran his lance through Richard's horse. At King Henry's funeral in Fontevraud, the new King Richard told William: 'You are pardoned; I bear you no malice.' And as the new King of England, Richard sent William back to England to free his mother Queen Eleanor from imprisonment. Since William was still a poor bachelor, he was also granted the hand of Isobel of Clare, heiress to the lordship of Leinster - a quarter of Ireland. William, now Earl of Pembroke, exemplifies a code of chivalry that defends the weak, shows generosity, charity and courtesy to all - especially to gentlewomen. In battles and tournaments William Marshall has demonstrated his exceptional skill at arms and has many times proved his loyalty to his lord King Richard, and his lord Earl John, Lord of Ireland.

Notice To the Merchants of Nottingham

The Hospital dedicated to St, John the Baptist is estab- lished for the relief of the poor and sick; and for the reception of lepers and lunatics who have undertaken repair of the Great Leen Bridge. Cause them no trouble, vexation, or impediment and provide them with goods for the reparation of the bridge so that you may merit recompense from God and receive thanks from us.

Brothers of St. John of Jerusalem

Portrait of an Earl

Earl John Earl John was born at Oxford in 1167, youngest of King Henry and Queen Eleanor's children. He was sent to the Abbey of Fontevrault in Anjou when little more than a year old where his education was entrusted to the King's chief justiciar. Though he appeared to be destined for the church, he spent a lot of time in the household of his brother 'Young Henry', learning to hunt and all about the rudiments of war. Before departing on crusade, King Richard made Earl John, Count of Montain, and granted him the counties of Nottingham, Derby, Dorset, Somerset, Devon and Cornwall. King Richard is called the Coeur de Lion but it is difficult to find an animal in nature that has the same contradictory nature of Earl John. Lacking Richard's stature, sense of honour and honesty, Earl John is a small man, tending to the fat side, full of mood changes that are sudden and unpredictable. Often judicious, capable, and even on occasions generous, he can be violent and treacherous. He makes his way in the world by uniting craftiness with ruthlessness. When lying ill from blood poisoning, his father King Henry asked to see the names of those who had deserted him and gone over to the other side. The name of his favourite son John standing at the top of the list filled the King with despair. He died within days. Able to conceive and execute cruelties with cold calculation, Earl John is surprisingly well read. He has an inquiring mind and treasures his library of books. Though he enjoys hawking and hunting, he dislikes war, and jousting even less. He does like his luxuries. Much devoted to eating and drinking, he never keeps the prescribed days for fasting and abstinence. He often wears a dressing gown and astonishingly bathes once every three weeks. Sometimes he can be judicious but at other times acts like a petty tyrant; and just like his father, he often gives way to rages where his 'eyes dart fire and his countenance becomes livid.' Not without some charm for he can lay on the flattery when necessary. And neither is he without lust - he has fathered several bastards. He has been known to inspire loyalty but at times can be quite frivolous. Possessed of his own particular brand of sardonic hu- mour, he never misses a chance to mock the church and its doings. At one church service, he told the Benedictine monk to cut short his sermon so he could have lunch. Usually reluctant to offer anything at mass, he once told his chamberlain who handed him several gold pieces: 'If I had had these a few days earlier I would have pocketed them.' Putting his trust in inanimate objects rather than God to defend his domains, he wears an amulet round his neck to bring him good luck. When in Ireland, he spent most of his time revelling and feasting, mocking the Irish lords because of their odd clothes, pulling their beards and laughing at their manners. 'John Lackland'

Nicknamed 'John Lackland' by his father because his elder brothers laid territorial claims ahead of him, Earl John is not landless now. Before going on crusade, King Richard loaded him with titles, fiefs and the revenues from lands to the value of four thousand pounds a year. The list includes the County of Mortain in Normandy, the earldom of Gloucester by his marriage to Lady Isabella, and the counties of Cornwall, Devon, Somerset, Derby and Nottingham. Originally the King made John swear to stay out of the country for three years but Queen Eleanor persuaded Richard to change his mind. If Richard's generosity was intended to thwart any reck- less rebellion on his brother's part it does not appear to have worked. Earl John travels about the country displaying all the trappings of a king, holding court, taxing harshly and spending vast sums on fine clothes and expensive jewels. Openly conveying instructions to Sheriffs by the use of writs, he certainly does not disguise his intentions - his supporters call him the 'heir-king.' By defying Chancellor Longchamps, attacking Tickhill and Not- tingham castles, and supporting his friend Gerard of Camville by marching at the head of an army to raise the Chancellor's siege at Lincoln, 'John Lackland' has left no one in any doubt as to his ambitions. Perhaps the Queen Mother Eleanor can exert some controlling influence on him, for apart from King Richard, it seems that she is the only person who can.

Wise Men of Gotham

When the villagers heard that Earl John intended to travel through Gotham village with a view to building a hunting lodge in the area, the villagers did not like the idea. It would mean giving up a considerable part of their land. So when the royal messengers arrived in the village the locals feigned imbecility. Wherever the messengers went, they saw the villagers engaged in some absurd task. Earl John's messengers "found some of the inhabitants engaged in endeavouring to drown an eel in a pool of water; some employed in dragging carts upon a large barn, to shade the wood from the sun; while others were tumbling their cheeses down a hill, that they might find their way to Nottingham for sale; while some were employed in hedging in a cuckoo which had perched upon an old bush and when the bird flew off, the villagers berated themselves for not making the hedge higher.’ In effect, they were all employed in some foolish way or other which convinced the Earl's servants that it was a village of fools. Earl John, on this report, decided not to bother. When interviewed, one of the local Gotham men boasted: 'There are more fools passing through Gotham than there are in it!'

17 Cuckoo Bush

I'd just as soon be a Gotham fool And the reason I'll tell you for why. I'll go down the Cuckoo Bush, Have a good time where all are as happy as I.

We feast on good cheer in a warm atmosphere And drink draught beer so clear. And dine on delicious food so fine, Washed down with a good red wine.

We'd keep the Spring by building a hedge That's how to keep a cuckoo in. If only we had built it a little higher Who can tell what might have been.

We feast on good cheer in a warm atmosphere And drink draught beer so clear. And dine on delicious food so fine, Washed down with a good red wine.

Though you may scoff at such silly ideas Because the cuckoo has flown away. But Gotham villagers always laugh Because for them Spring is every day.

We feast on good cheer in a warm atmosphere And drink draught beer so clear. And dine on delicious food so fine, Washed down with a good red wine.

Portrait of a King

King Richard the Lionheart King Richard, born on 8 September 1157 in the Palace of Beau- mont at Oxford, was brought up in Poitiers at the court of his mother Queen Mother Eleanor. At his mother's court Richard heard the troubadours sing their songs of courtly love and chivalry, becoming aware of a new notion that women were worthy of high regard and should be loved with a noble passion. When fourteen years old, he became Duke of Aquitaine and at seventeen had his first taste of war when he rebelled against his father. Richard became heir to the throne when his elder brother Young Henry died but has spent little time in England - as soon as he was crowned he set off on crusade. Tall in stature, graceful in figure, King Richard has long straight limbs, his father's red-gold hair and startling blue-grey eyes. A fine horseman and swordsman, he has a commanding appearance. Bold, daring and dashing, he shines in war, loves pageantry and dressing-up in fine magnificent clothes. Always cool and patient in the execution of his plans, he displays boldness in carrying them out. Though he rejoices in personal combat, he is soon bored by tournaments: his taste is for real warfare for which he has a natural flair. Courageous, often to the point of recklessness, he is in love with war and it is to war that he applies all the powers of his mind and body. He does not play at it: to fight under his leadership means to be led from one victory to another, never swerving from the purpose of defeating the enemy. Just like his father, he is prone to fits of terrible rage and can sometimes be harsh and cruel, often showing his enemies no mercy. Astonishingly though, he can be generous to those who have personally injured him. The troubadour and poet Bertrand de Born plotted against him in Aquitaine but Richard forgave him and even gave him the kiss of peace. He may be ruthless in gaining his own ends and can be some- times cruel and predatory but he possesses a taste for music and poetry inherited from his mother Queen Eleanor. Often playing the troubadour himself, he has written and composed several songs in French and Provencal. He greatly enjoys church music, walking amongst the choir urging them with both voice and hand to sing with greater gusto. Our King speaks his mind and was nicknamed Yea or Nay by a troubadour, not because he was forever changing his mind, but because his words were always to the point. More imaginative and generous than his father, he is as hasty to forgive as he is to offend, rising above the past with magnanimity. William Marshall fought loyally with his father King Henry against Richard but when Richard became king he rewarded William's loyalty to his father by providing him with an heiress in marriage and sent him to England to act in his name. Richard showed little love for his father, mainly because he would not grant him more power and independence, but he has a great affection for his mother. She calls him the great one and they are devoted to each other. Mother and son have similar charac- ters; both can be frivolous and possess an odd sense of humour.

King Richard on Crusade

Committed Christian Richard admires legendary heroes such as the Paladins of Charlemagne and King Arthur's Knights of the Round Table where chivalry was strictly observed and women were worthy of high regard. A deeply committed Christian, he has a special devotion to the shrine at Bury St.Edmunds, probably because of his admiration for St. Edmund who, as an English king, stood steadfast against barbarian invaders. Richard was the first prince to take the cross for a crusade that appeals to his very nature. Inspired himself by a cause that pro- vides a chance to charge at the head of his knights in a holy crusade, he also inspires his followers. Our King may rarely visit England but everyone knows that this sacred enterprise on which he has embarked will bring a blessing upon himself and upon every citizen in the kingdom.

Queen Mother Eleanor

Eleanor, daughter of the Duke of Aquitaine was born in 1122 at Bordeaux from where wine merchants sailed to England and sailors set out to hunt the whale. The greatest heiress in Europe, a formidable and lavishly gifted lady, she was an idealised and adored lady for whom troubadours wrote and sang their songs. Eleanor's grandfather, William the 9th, Duke of Aquitaine, was the earliest known troubadour. He wrote songs for the lute, unfortunately most of them were unashamedly licentious. His private life was a scandal - he carried off another man's wife and kept her as his concubine in the tower of his palace. When he fought in the Holy Land, he had her likeness painted on his shield, explaining that he wanted her over him in battle just as he was over her in bed. Eleanor's father, William the 10th, Duke of Aquitaine, patronised poets and troubadours at his court. It was at his court that troubadours developed their cult of platonic love, where they sang of an impossible passion for some unattainable noblewoman. It was her father who ensured that Eleanor learned Latin, the Bible, Ovid, and the art of the troubadour. Eleanor was only fifteen years old when her father died. Prey to any ruthless suitor who could seize her, force her to marry him, and enjoy her inheritance, she quickly married Louis the 7th, heir to the French throne. Queen of France The court that Eleanor set up in Paris was the gayest and most splendid in Christendom. She introduced poets, troubadours, new fashions and respect for ladies. Saint Bernard of Clairvaux didn't like it. He deplored the devilish vanity of court ladies in their rich dresses made from the toil of worms, their arms weighed down with bracelets and the painted faces that they removed at night. One of the poets at court, Chretien of Troyes was first poet to popularise the legends of King Arthur's Knights. His legendary stories, in verse, were about valour and chivalry and love for fair ladies . . . tales of love and sentimental adventure where bright armour sparkled in the sunlight, people wore silk and satin, ermine and sable, and cloth was made of gold. His early romance, Eric and Enide was supposedly based on Eleanor' s adventures. Queen Eleanor is a devout Christian. Many times she has en- dowed the abbey of Fontevrault, a revolutionary new order that became the first haven for battered and ill-used wives. No one was refused entry. The founder, a preacher named Robert from Brit- tany, once took in an entire brothel home to Fontevrault, after he had converted them. When Saint Bernard of Clairvaux called for a second crusade to the Holy Land, King Louis willingly responded . . . and so did Eleanor. On the way, Eleanor took a liking to her long-lost Uncle Raymond, the tall, good-looking Prince of Antioch. Eleanor and Louis fell out. After spending a year in the Holy city, the couple returned home in separate ships. Uncle Raymond was less fortu- nate. He fell in battle against the Saracens and his skull was set in silver and sent to the caliph of Baghdad. Eleanor gave birth to two daughters, Marie and Alice, but Louis needed a male heir, so their marriage was annulled. The fact that they were third cousins satisfied the church. Within eight weeks Eleanor married the most eligible bachelor in France, Henry, Duke of Normandy (they were third cousins too). Within two years, she had became the Queen of England when Henry succeeded King Stephen.

Queen of England

King Stephen had left England in a miserable state, and to put things in order King Henry was constantly in the saddle. Eleanor accompanied him on horseback, or when she was pregnant which was often, in a leather-roofed wagon with springless wooden wheels. The places they stayed in were not exactly palaces - rushes on the floor, a fireplace with a louvre for a chimney, rooms lit at night by flaring torches, or guttering rush lights. Eleanor did her best to improve conditions. She bought cushions and tapestry, lit her apartments with sweet- scented oil, perfumed them with incense, imported wine from La Rochelle, and ensured her cooks made lavish use of pepper and cinnamon. She sheltered the famous troubadour, Bernart de Ventadour, who developed an extravagant passion for Eleanor in his songs. Henry dismissed him.

King Henry Both Henry and Eleanor were believers in the legend of King Arthur, and together they visited Glastonbury in search of King Arthur's tomb. For thirteen years, Eleanor bore five sons and three more daugh- ters by Henry. He fathered at least two bastard sons and took mistresses. But it was Henry's affair with 'Fair Rosamund', whom he openly paraded at court, that finally turned Eleanor against him. Queen Eleanor supposedly entered Rosamund's tower refuge at Woodstock by the clue of a silken thread and offered her the choice of a dagger, or a poisoned chalice. The story may or may not be true, but it does give some insight into Eleanor's character. Eleanor left Henry and departed for Poitiers where she set up her own court, filling it with poets and troubadours, and even presided over romantic song contests. Her daughters from her previous marriage to King Louis, Alice and Marie, joined her. Both of her daughters had inherited a taste for culture and poetry from their mother. In particular, Marie of Champagne was an enthusiastic follower of the Arthurian legend, and like her mother, she patronised the poet Chretien of Troyes. It was to Marie that the poet dedicated his famous story of Lancelot. After King Henry's knights had murdered Thomas Becket in Canterbury Cathedral, Eleanor believed Henry had lost his power, and in league with her sons, plotted a revolt against her husband. It all went wrong. During the skirmishing, some of Henry's troops intercepted a group of knights riding towards Paris. Among them, riding astride and dressed like a nobleman, was fifty-year-old Queen Eleanor. Henry shipped Eleanor back to England and kept her, more or less confined for the next fifteen years, sometimes in Winchester Castle, sometimes in Old Sarum and odd times in Nottingham Castle, although he often summoned her to keep Christmas with him at Windsor. Offered divorce on condition that she took vows as a nun and retired to Fontevrault Abbey, she refused. No way was she going to abandon her rights to Aquitaine, and nothing, not even confinement, could break her extraordinary spirit. During her confinement, her eldest son Young Henry died of dysentery. She mourned her handsome, charming son and years later wrote to the pope that she was still tortured by his memory. Two years later her third eldest son Geoffrey died after falling off a horse in a tournament. In 1189, King Henry died from blood poisoning at Chinon whilst fighting his two remaining sons Richard and John.

Queen Mother Though Eleanor was sixty-seven years of age when her husband Henry died and her son released her from confinement, she must have possessed a magnificent constitution. Described as 'like a sovereign in full sail', she travelled from castle to castle and city to city, issuing orders throughout England. Her first order was to free those men who had been unjustly imprisoned infringing the forest laws. 'By my own experience,' she said. 'I have found that prisons were hateful to men, and to be released from one was a delightful refreshment to the spirit.' At Richard's coronation, Eleanor preserved a youthful image by wearing make-up, and a nun-like wimple to hide her white hair and wrinkled neck. Richard immediately left on crusade. While Richard was still in Sicily and despite her years, Eleanor travelled by way of Bordeaux, rode over the Pyrenees to the town of Pamplona, picked up Princess Berengaria, the daughter of the King of Navarre, rode with her over the Alps, and all the way down the Italian peninsular, where she took ship to Sicily and presented Princess Berengaria as a bride for her son. On her way home, she joined in the festivities for the coronation of the new Pope who just happened to be an old friend. This would have been a daunting journey for anyone, let alone a woman of seventy years. On his way home from crusade, Richard was arrested and ransomed in Germany. King Philip of France and Prince John were delighted at this news - King Philip was trying to drive the English out of France and Prince John just couldn't wait to succeed his brother. In concert, Philip attacked Normandy and John tried to raise a revolt by seizing several castles in England. Eleanor outmaneuvered both of them. She called out the fyrd on the south coast to guard against a French invasion while her supporters besieged John in Windsor Castle. It was then that Eleanor took control of affairs of state. She sent two abbots to Germany to search for the King, and wrote terrible letters to the Pope complaining of the arrest of her son and demanding that he does something about it. 'I have lost the staff of my age, the light of my eyes,' she wrote and signed herself ‘Eleanor, by the wrath of God, Queen of the English.' At eighty-three years of age, Pope Celestine hadn't Eleanor's fire and determination, so she had to set about raising the ransom. Eleanor then personally escorted the ransom to Germany and and it was her astuteness that finally got him released. The German Emperor wouldn't release Richard until he had paid him homage as a vassal. Always a realist, Eleanor saw at once that this was a meaningless condition, and advised her son to accept it. Mother and son triumphantly travelled home down the Rhine where they were feted by the Archbishop of Cologne and Ger- man princes who were impressed by Richard's exploits in the Holy Land. Eleanor can now leave the kingdom in King Richard's safe hands and retire to Fontevrault Abbey where she can form her own quiet, intimate court. As a refuge, a haven of spiritual comfort for ladies, the abbey is the ideal place for Queen Eleanor to spend her twilight years, though with her abundant energy, she may yet play a part in the future affairs of England. Chretien de Troyes

Tales of chivalry, adventure and romance in verse have become more popular than the old heroic poems such as the Song of Roland. Not composed for dramatic recitation, these stories of valour and love for fair ladies involve the legends of Tristan, King Arthur and his Knights, and the marvels of the Celtic world. They are intended to grip the imagination, telling of courtly love where love itself is a religious passion, ennobling, ever increasing and unfulfilled. In 1137, the beautiful 15 years old Eleanor of Aquitaine came to Paris as the Queen of France, imbued with the ideas of a cultured society where courtesy prevailed. She determined her court would be the gayest, most splendid in Christendom, and importantly, show respect for ladies. She introduced troubadours with their music and poetry from the south and trouveres with their love poems and Provencal verse from the north. One of the poets named Chretien, born in Troyes the capital town of Champagne, was an admirer of the Queen - just one of many. Chretien had studied Latin, poring over his favourite authors, Ovid, Virgil and Horace that fired his ambition to write elegant rhyming verse. His stories in verse were of love and sentimental adventure where bright armour sparkled in the sunlight, people wore silk and satin, ermine and sable, and cloth was made of gold. He wrote long stirring tales of knights battling and being killed in tournaments amid clouds of dust while fair maidens watched in admiration. He filled his romance stories with love, fantasy, brav- ery and chivalry. His inspiration came from stories of Celtic origin: the Welsh author, Geoffrey of Monmouth, originated the tales of King Arthur, his court, his knights and Queen Guinevere, but it was Chretien who turned them into romantic verse, extolling a code of chivalry, courtesy and respect for ladies. The stories usually depict the hero going off to a distant land to fight his way through dangerous adventures and be rewarded for his valour with the love of a fair lady. The legends of King Arthur and his knights are tales of entertaining fantastic adventure, able to transport the reader from boredom to exciting joy. Love and the power of love are the golden threads that run through Chretien's tales. Nobody before had written of a lady's charms, of how she felt and thought. Each of his tales included different sexual relationships: blind passion, faltering marriages, extra marital passions, adultery and a true meeting of hearts. The tales combined love with adven- ture and chivalry, though charity was always depicted as the greatest virtue. He wrote of a world not as it really was, harsh and precarious, but as he would like to have it - courtly and romantic. He represented the chivalric ideal and society as he would like to see it with delicate manners, generosity and honour. His world was a poet's dream. Chretien dedicated his story of Lancelot to his patron, Marie, Countess of Champagne. He wrote: 'This lady surpasses all others who are alive; just as the South wind that blows in May or April is more lovely than any other wind.' Marie had inherited a taste for culture and sophistication from her mother and a love of poetry from her great-grandfather William IX, Duke of Aquitaine - the first known troubadour. Without Chretien of Troyes we might never of heard of the chivalric court of King Arthur and his heroic knights, never have thrilled to stirring tales of adventure, bravery, love and courtesy. And we would have been the poorer.

Erec and Enide

A story adapted from the romantic verse by Chretien of Troyes

Poor indeed was Enide's garb. Though her white well-worn garments may have been so old that they were full of holes, she still looked beautiful and charming. Within the clothes her body was fair, for nature had used all her skill in forming her and never again could she strive so successfully to reproduce her pattern. Her complexion was clearer than the lily, her delicate pallor suffused with a fresh crimson and her eyes so bright they seemed like two stars. She was made to be looked at, for never did Iseut the Fair have such radiant golden tresses. At first sight of the knight, Enide drew back a little and blushed. Erec, for his part, was amazed to behold such beauty and asked the master of the house: 'Why is your daughter so fair and clever, yet so poorly clad?' 'I have been so long involved in war that I have lost all my lands. There is no nobleman who does not desire her for his wife but I will not give my consent for I am waiting for someone better. She is my joy and comfort, my wealth and my treasure and I love noting so much as her precious self.' Erec was one of many knights quartered in the town preparing for the fete on the following day, where, in the presence of all the people, a sparrow-hawk of six moultings was to be set upon a silver perch. Whoever wishes to gain the hawk must have a mistress fair, prudent and courteous and ask her to step forward to lift the hawk from its perch. The knight must be bold enough to defend the worth and name of his mistress against any challenger. Everyone expected Yder, winning it for the last two years without a challenge, to gain the prize again. 'I wish to defend the hawk on behalf of your daughter,' Erec told his host, 'for there is no damsel who is one hundredth part as beautiful as she.' 'No, sir knight. I expect fortune will bring hither some king or count to lead her away for there is no king who would be ashamed of my daughter, but till then . . .' 'Sire, I am called Erec, son of the rich Breton King Lac and I belong to King Arthur's court. I promise that if you give me your daughter tomorrow when I strive for the hawk I will take her to my country, give her a crown to wear and make her a queen of three cities.' 'I have heard much of you in this country and if you are indeed the son of King Lac then I can refuse you nothing - for you are valiant and brave. Here, I give you my daughter.' Erec received her joyfully. Enide sat quietly, but happy that she was betrothed to Erec because he was valiant and courteous and knowing that some day she would be crowned a rich queen.

Disputed Hawk At the crack of dawn Erec and his host rose to pray at the church, not forgetting to make an offering, and hear a hermit chant the mass. Enide helped Erec put on his arms, fastening a sword at his side and handing him his shield and helmet. She herself then mounted a bay palfrey - the bridle was the worse for wear - and all free in light attire, she rode by his side through the streets of the town. They made a handsome couple. 'Who can this knight be?' the people asked. 'He must be brave indeed to escort so fair a damsel.' When they came to the sparrow-hawk sat upon the silver perch, they waited for the knight Yder to arrive. He presently came riding up with his mistress by his side and an evil-looking dwarf in front. The crowd quickly made way for them. Yder quietly told his lady: 'Step forward my dear, and lift the sparrow-hawk from its perch, for you are wondrous fair and full of charm.' 'Damsel, stand back!' Erec immediately cried. 'A better one than you claims it - more fair and courteous.' Ignoring the anger rising in Yder, Erec bid Enide step forward: 'No lady exceeds you in beauty and worth, anymore than the moon outshines the sun.' 'Vassal!' Yder shouted at Erec. 'Who are you to dispute the hawk with me?' 'A knight from another land - King Arthur's Court.' 'Then you must fight with me and pay dearly for it.' A large place was cleared and people gathered around to watch. The two knights drew off then charged each other with their lances, knocking each other out of their saddles to the ground where they carried on the fight with swords. Great sword blows were exchanged, helmets rang, shields and hauberks shattered and swords became red with blood. The battle was long and both damsels came to tears. Both knights became weary and had to take a rest. Amid her tears, Enide softly prayed for Erec who, seeing her love and beauty, was inspired with great boldness and renewed vigour. 'Vassal!'' he shouted to Yder. 'Too long we have rested; I call you anew to battle!' They fought on, giving a Roland for an Oliver until Erec, with a powerful blow, entirely split his opponent's helmet and the stunned Yder fell to the ground. 'Mercy!' Yder begged. 'You have defeated me - I yield my sword.' Erec refused his sword. 'Oh gentle knight, why do you have such mortal hatred for me? What crime have I committed against you?' 'A few days ago you allowed your ill-bred dwarf to strike one of Queen Guinevere's ladies while King Arthur was hunting the White Stag, and for such a crime I may well hate you. As my prisoner, you must take yourself to Queen Guinevere at Cardigan and place yourself in her hands.' 'Gentle knight! I pledge you my faith that I will go without delay and place myself at the Queen's mercy.' With these words Yder mounted his steed and rode off. At his plighted word everyone around was glad but most rejoiced for Enide in her white raiment, she of the gentle and open heart, the daughter of a poor vavasor. When Erec returned to his lodgings with Enide, anyone who was present would have witnessed a happy scene. The triumphant knight took his seat at the head while Enide, her face radiant, fed the much disputed hawk upon her wrist with a plover's wing. Great honour, joy and prestige she had gained that day and she was very glad at heart, making no secret of her joy. Next morning, when Erec and Enide left for King Arthur's court, her mother and father could not hold back their tears, for such is love and human nature and affection between parents and chil- dren, though they knew they would receive great honour from her marriage. As the betrothed couple rode along Erec could not look at her enough: Enide's fair and laughing eyes gladdened his heart and he could not help giving her a kiss. She looked at him with clear eye and loyal heart. A perfect match they were in courtesy, beauty and gentleness, so alike in quality, manner and customs, so well suited to each other, they each stole the other's heart away.

The White Stag.

When Erec and Enide reached Cardigan castle, King Arthur and Queen Guinevere greeted them warmly for they were already aware of Erec's battle with Yder - the defeated knight had earlier surrendered to the Queen. The King, praising Enide's beauty, lifted her down from her horse; and the Queen, seeing her dressed in poor clothes, quickly took her off to present her with one of her own fine gowns. Rich and fine and embroidered with little crosses, the greenish- purple mantle had two sable skins around the neck; its two tassels held more than an ounce of gold with a hyacinth on one, and on the other, a ruby flashing like a burning candle. The tunic, lined with white ermine even to the sleeves, had at the wrists and neck-band more than half a mark's weight of beaten gold and set in the gold were precious stones of varied colours of indigo, green, and blue. Ribbons made of silken thread and gold were quickly added and when Enide put on the finished gown, it became her so well that she looked lovelier than ever. Her old frock she gave away to some poor woman for the love of God. On entering the court and seeing all the knights steadfastly admiring her, Enide blushed. Seeing her embarrassment, the King gently took her by the hand and made her sit on his right hand. The Queen, sitting on his left, said to him: 'Now you can bestow the kiss on the fairest of the court, for this maiden is the most charming of all the damsels here - or indeed the whole world.' An ancient custom held that whoever killed the White Stag in the hunt must kiss the fairest maiden of the court - come what may. The custom could bring great ill: there were five hundred damsels of high birth and each had a bold and valiant knight for her lover who was ever ready to contend that she was the fairest of them all. In the hunt, the King himself had killed the White Stag. 'I am bound to keep the tradition of my father Pendragon.' he told the court. 'Now fully tell me what you think. Is this damsel Enide not the fairest of my household and by right should receive the kiss?' The knights answered with one accord: 'In this damsel there is more beauty than radiance in the sun. You may kiss her freely.' The King turned to Enide, embraced her and she courteously allowed him to kiss her: 'My dear, I give you my love in all honesty, with true heart, without malice or guile.' So the tradition of the White Stag was carried with a kiss.

18 Shortening the Days

If I seem far away, Please don't say: 'He's forgotten me.' Though we are apart, You're in my heart. If you seem far away, I'll not say: 'She's forgotten me.' Come whatever may, Your love will stay.

For I'll still hear you, Singing a sweet song, Short'ning lonely days, Days that seem so long. Your warm smile I will hold, Shining gold, Always within me. Although you're not near, I'll hold you dear. If I seem Far away, Please don't say: 'He's forgotten me.' For your fond caress, I'll still possess, For I'll still hear you, Singing a sweet song, Short'ning lonely days, Days that seem so long.

Unwilling Lovers

Alexander and Soredamors

A story, adapted from the romantic verse by Chretien of Troyes

Alexander, fair and brave, was the first son of the Emperor of Greece and Constantinpole. Scorning to be a knight in his own country, he came to Cornwall with twelve companions to join the famed court of King Arthur. Well-skilled in speaking fair and wisely, he saluted the King: 'Your widespread renown has drawn me to serve and honour you in your court; and if you will accept the service of myself and my companions then I shall remain here until dubbed a knight by your own hand.' The King at once replied: 'Friend, I refuse neither you nor your companions - be welcome all.' Over the next few months, Alexander and his Greeks did not vaunt themselves nor boast but gained the good graces of all the court and impressed King Arthur. The King asked Alexander to accompany himself and Queen Guinevere on a trip to Brittany. Sailing in the same ship was Soredamors, one of the Queen's maids-in-waiting. Soredamor caught Alexander's eye, and he caught hers.

Two Lovers Hiding Their Love Soredamors was scornful of love though her name meant 'gilded over with love'. Yet so charming and fair she might have learned of love if she had lent a willing ear but she had never met any man whom she would deign to love, whatever his prowess, lordship or birth. Now Love avenged himself and aimed his dart for all the pride and scorn that she had always poured on him. It was only with great difficulty that she restrained herself from casting glances towards Alexander. At first she was grateful at her feelings but then it hurt. One moment she liked it; the next she would have none of it. 'Have my eyes betrayed me?' she exclaimed. 'My heart, usually so faithful, now bears me ill-will. What I see pleases me one moment but pains me the next.' She had begun to pay dearly for her previous pride and disdain. 'My heart ought not to have any desire that causes me pain but it does. This man does not speak as he would do if he were in love with me, so shall I love him without return? Nay, if I do not look at him, no harm will come to me and I shall never seek his friendship. Does Love think to set me on the path that has led others astray? Not me, who cares nothing for him, for I shall be able to baffle Love in his efforts to get control of me.' She did not know that Alexander also loved and desired her but he too dared not speak. He had once believed there was naught but good in Love but he had since learned that he played tricks and was full of enmity. 'He is a fool who joins his ranks for he always seeks to harm his followers. Upon my faith his tricks are bad.' Neither spoke nor acted in accordance with what each saw in the other and so fanned the flames of love all the more. During their stay in Brittany their love waxed but each was abashed before the other, no flame or smoke arising from the coals beneath the ashes, each hiding the truth from the other's eyes, leaving them both in torment. Love presented Sordamor to Alexander in his mind and dis- tressed him, filching his heart away and granting him no rest. One moment he delighted in recalling her grace and beauty, but then he grieved, believing that she would never bring him joy. 'I might as well hold myself a madman,' he exclaimed, 'for truly I am beside myself when I dare not speak what is in my mind. Love has wounded me so deep that he has shot his dart into my very heart and not withdrawn it again.' Each night Soredamors lay in such distress that she could not sleep. Love confined within her heart a struggle and conflict that caused her so much pain and anguish that she wept and moaned. When she looked within her heart to see what manner of man for whom Love was tormenting her, she felt content; but moments later she ridiculed all the thoughts she had before and tossed and turned again. 'Shall I beseech him then? Nay, for did ever such a thing come about where a woman is so forward as to make love to a man? There is nothing to do but wait and suffer.' Thus in their distress they remained throughout the summer in Brittany till troubling news came from Dover. Count Angres of Windsor, to whom King Arthur had entrusted his kingdom, had traitorously gathered together a great rebellious army. Alexander immediately requested King Arthur to make knights of himself and his Greek companions, to which the King readily agreed.

A Daring Deed When King Arthur returned to Britain he found that Count Angres, not having all the people's support, had sacked London and retreated to the well-fortified Windsor Castle. Camping on the opposite side of the river Thames, King Arthur and his faithful knights strove their utmost to break down the castle's defences by shooting arrows, javelins and bolts, but to no avail. At the head of his Greek knights, Alexander so excelled himself in the fighting that the King added 500 Welsh knights and 1,000 troopers to his command. The King also offered a cup of great value - weighing fifteen marks of gold - for anyone who could effect surrender of the castle. That evening, as was his custom, Alexander visited the tent of the Queen where she presented him with a white silk shirt embroi- dered in gold. Pretending that she was not aware of their love for each other, the Queen had bid Soredamors to sit by her and asked her: 'Tell us truly, damsel, did you have a hand in the sewing of this shirt?' Though Soredamors felt a little shame, she gladly explained: 'I helped stitch it here and there but inserted at intervals in the sleeves and neck a thread of my own hair to see if any man could tell the difference.' The hair was as bright and golden as the thread of gold itself. Alexander was overjoyed, hardly able to restrain himself from worshipping the golden hair but well-nigh speechless with embar- rassment. Only when he was alone did he kiss the shirt a thousand times: thus did Love make a fool of a sensible man. That same night, a party of the traitors slipped out of Windsor Castle to cause mischief but God hates traitors more than any other sinners and the moon began to show itself. Spotted by Alexander's men who fell amongst them, they were all killed or captured. It was then that Alexander hit upon his daring plan. 'Let us change our gear,' he told his men. 'By taking the shields and lances of the traitors, the defenders inside the castle will suppose we are of their party and let us in.' The deceived castle gate keeper did open gate to them. Thus catching the garrison by surprise, Alexander and his Greeks charged straight at the defenders, forcing them to retreat to the keep. Count Angres and his knights made a last stand at the keep gate, making a desperate fight of it. When the valiant Alexander cap- tured the Count, the rest of the knights surrendered.

Queen Guinevere

King Arthur's knights, unaware of Alexander's daring deed, found their Greek companions' shields lying among the slain traitors and assumed Alexander and his knights were dead. It caused them great distress. When Soredamors heard the news she lost her colour and her senses. Not daring to openly show her distress she shut her grief within her heart. Soredamor's sorrow changed to joy when Alexander came out of the castle with his prisoner and King Arthur, greatly pleased, presented him with the precious gold cup. Queen Guinevere summoned both Alexander and Soredamors to her tent and told them: 'Lovers know not what they do when they conceal their passion from each other. I have plainly seen in the faces of both of you that of two hearts you have made but one. So conceal nothing. Exercise no tyranny but honourably join together in marriage - for I believe your love will long endure.' Alexander replied: 'Since you know what my wishes are, I can no longer conceal them from you; but it may be that this maiden may not wish that I be hers and she be mine? Even so I place myself in her hands.' Soredamors trembled at his words, having no desire to refuse him. Falteringly she gave herself to him and said to the Queen: 'My heart and body are at your command to do as you please.' The Queen clasped them both in her arms and laughingly said: 'I give over to thee, Alexander, thy sweetheart's body and I know thy heart will not draw back. I give each of you to the other. Do thou, Soredamors, take what is thine; and thou, Alexander, take what is thine?' They both quickly answered 'Yes' and they celebrated their marriage that very day at Windsor. The couple had all the happi- ness that they could desire and no one could describe, without falling short of the truth, the magnificence and pleasure that every- one felt at this wedding of the two unwilling lovers.

19 The Unsung Song

In my dreams so many times I have sung such moving rhymes But as soon as I open my eyes The ghost of my ballad flies

Of the flowing pleasing strains Not a single note remains I know that it would sound oh so fine If I could recall the lines

Perhaps with luck one day The words will come and stay And the melody will cling Long enough for me to sing The song I've never sung

In my dreams so many times I have sung such moving rhymes But as soon as I open my eyes The ghost of my ballad flies

And my heart is truly stirred By every unremembered word Though I try so hard I try in vain To recall my lost refrain

Perhaps with luck one day The words will come and stay And the melody will cling Long enough for me to sing The song I've never sung