Hero-Myths & Legends of the British Race
sympathizers watching pityingly the hangman's cart, in which lay
William of Cloudeslee, bound hand and foot, with a rope round his
neck. The sheriff and the justice stood near the gallows, and
Cloudeslee would have been hanged already, but that the sheriff was
hiring a man to measure the outlaw for his grave. "You shall have the
dead man's clothes, good fellow, if you make his grave," said he.
Cloudeslee's courage was still undaunted. "I have seen as great a
marvel ere now," quoth he, "as that a man who digs a grave for another
may lie in it himself, in as short a time as from now to prime."
"You speak proudly, my fine fellow, but hanged you shall be, if I do
it with my own hand," retorted the sheriff furiously.
Now the cart moved a little nearer to the scaffold, and William was
raised up to be ready for execution. As he looked round the dense mass
of faces his keen sight soon made him aware of his friends. Adam Bell
and Clym of the Cleugh stood at one corner of the market-place with
arrow on string, and their deadly aim bent at the sheriff and justice,
whose horses raised them high above the murmuring throng. Cloudeslee
showed no surprise, but said aloud: "Lo! I see comfort, and hope to
fare well in my journey. Yet if I might have my hands free I would
care little what else befell me."
The Rescue
Now Adam said quietly to Clym: "Brother, do you take the justice, and
I will shoot the sheriff. Let us both loose at once and leave them
dying. It is an easy shot, though a long one."
Thus, while the sheriff yet waited for William to be measured for his
grave, suddenly men heard the twang of bowstrings and the whistling
flight of arrows through the air, and at the same moment both sheriff
and justice fell writhing from their steeds, with the grey goose
feathers standing in their breasts. All the bystanders fled from the
dangerous neighbourhood, and left the gallows, the fatal cart, and the
mortally wounded officials alone. The two bold outlaws rushed to
release their comrade, cut his bonds, and lifted him to his feet.
William seized an axe from a soldier and pursued the fleeing guard,
while his two friends with their deadly arrows slew a man at each
shot.
The Mayor of Carlisle
When the arrows were all used Adam Bell and Clym of the Cleugh threw
away their bows and took to sword and buckler. The fight continued
till midday for in the narrow streets the three comrades protected
each other, and drew gradually towards the gate. Adam Bell still
carried the keys at his girdle, and they could pass out easily if they
could but once reach the gateway. By this time the whole town was in a
commotion; again the hue and cry had been raised against the outlaws,
and the Mayor of Carlisle came in person with a mighty troop of armed
citizens, angered now at the fighting in the streets of the town.
The three yeomen retreated as steadily as they could towards the gate,
but the mayor followed valiantly armed with a pole-axe, with which he
clove Cloudeslee's shield in two. He soon perceived the object of the
outlaws, and bade his men guard the gates well, so that the three
should not escape.
The Escape from Carlisle
Terrible was the din in the town now, for trumpets blew, church-bells
were rung backward, women bewailed their dead in the streets, and over
all resounded the clash of arms, as the fighting drew nigh the gate.
When the gatehouse came in sight the outlaws were fighting
desperately, with diminishing strength, but the thought of safety
outside the walls gave them force to make one last stand. With backs
to the gate and faces to the foe, Adam and Clym and William made a
valiant onslaught on the townsfolk, who fled in terror, leaving a
breathing-space in which Adam Bell turned the key, flung open the
great ponderous gate, and flung it to again, when the three had passed
through.
Adam and the Keys
As Adam locked the door they could hear inside the town the
hurrying footsteps of the rallying citizens, whose furious attack on
the great iron-studded door came too late. The door was locked, and
the three friends stood in safety outside, with their pleasant forest
home within easy reach. The change of feeling was so intense that Adam
Bell, always the man to seize the humorous point of a situation,
laughed lightly. He called through the barred wicket:
"Here are your keys. I resign my office as warder--one half-day's work
is enough for me; and as I have resigned, and the former gate-ward is
somewhat damaged and has disappeared, I advise you to find a new one.
Take your keys, and much good may you get from them. Next time I
advise you not to stop an honest yeoman from coming to see his own
wife and have a chat with her."
Thereupon he flung the keys over the gate on the heads of the crowd,
and the three brethren slipped away into the forest to their own
haunts, where they found fresh bows and arrows in such abundance that
they longed to be back in fair Carlisle with their foes before them.
William of Cloudeslee and his Wife Meet
While they were yet discussing all the details of the rescue they
heard a woman's pitiful lament and the crying of little children.
"Hark!" said Cloudeslee, and they all heard in the silence the words
she said. It was William's wife, and she cried: "Alas! why did I not
die before this day? Woe is me that my dear husband is slain! He is
dead, and I have no friend to lament with me. If only I could see his
comrades and tell what has befallen him my heart would be eased of
some of its pain."
William, as he listened, was deeply touched, and walked gently to
fair Alice, as she hid her face in her hands and wept. "Welcome, wife,
to the greenwood!" quoth he. "By heaven, I never thought to see you
again when I lay in bonds last night." Dame Alice sprang up most
joyously. "Oh, all is well with me now you are here; I have no care or
woe." "For that you must thank my dear brethren, Adam and Clym," said
he; and Alice began to load them with her thanks, but Adam cut short
the expression of her gratitude. "No need to talk about a little
matter like that," he said gruffly. "If we want any supper we had
better kill something, for the meat we must eat is yet running wild."
With three such good archers game was easily shot and a merry meal was
quickly prepared in the greenwood, and all joyfully partook of venison
and other dainties. Throughout the repast William devotedly waited on
his wife with deepest love and reverence, for he could not forget how
she had defended him and risked her life to stand by him.
William's Proposed Visit to London
When the meal was over, and they reclined on the green turf round the
fire, William began thoughtfully:
"It is in my mind that we ought speedily to go to London and try to
win our pardon from the king. Unless we approach him before news can
be brought from Carlisle he will assuredly slay us. Let us go at once,
leaving my dear wife and my two youngest sons in a convent here; but I
would fain take my eldest boy with me. If all goes well he can bring
good news to Alice in her nunnery, and if all goes ill he shall bring
her my last wishes. But I am sure I am not meant to die by the law."
His brethren approved the plan, and they took fair Alice and her two
youngest children to the nunnery, and then the three famous archers
with the little boy of seven set out at their best speed for London,
watching the passers-by carefully, that no news of the doings in
Carlisle should precede them to the king.
Outlaws in the Royal Palace
The three yeomen, on arriving in London, made their way at once to the
king's palace, and walked boldly into the hall, regardless of the
astonished and indignant shouts of the royal porter. He followed them
angrily into the hall, and began reproaching them and trying to induce
them to withdraw, but to no purpose. Finally an usher came and said:
"Yeomen, what is your wish? Pray tell me, and I will help you if I
can; but if you enter the king's presence thus unmannerly you will
cause us to be blamed. Tell me now whence you come."
William fearlessly answered: "Sir, we will tell the truth without
deceit. We are outlaws from the king's forests, outlawed for killing
the king's deer, and we come to beg for pardon and a charter of peace,
to show to the sheriff of our county."
The King and the Outlaws
The usher went to an inner room and begged to know the king's will,
whether he would see these outlaws or not. The king was interested in
these bold yeomen, who dared to avow themselves law-breakers, and bade
men bring them to audience with him. The three comrades, with the
little boy, on being introduced into the royal presence, knelt down
and held up their hands, beseeching pardon for their offences.
"Sire, we beseech your pardon for our breach of your laws. We are
forest outlaws, who have slain your fallow deer in many parts of your
royal forests." "Your names? Tell me at once," said the king. "Adam
Bell, Clym of the Cleugh, and William of Cloudeslee," they replied.
The king was very wrathful. "Are you those bold robbers of whom men
have told me? Do you now dare to come to me for pardon? On mine honour
I vow that you shall all three be hanged without mercy, as I am
crowned king of this realm of England. Arrest them and lay them in
bonds." There was no resistance possible, and the yeomen submitted
ruefully to their arrest. Adam Bell was the first to speak. "As I hope
to thrive, this game pleases me not at all," he said. "Sire, of your
mercy, we beg you to remember that we came to you of our own free
will, and to let us pass away again as freely. Give us back our
weapons and let us have free passage till we have left your palace; we
ask no more; we shall never ask another favour, however long we live."
The king was obdurate, however; he only replied: "You speak proudly
still, but you shall all three be hanged."
The Queen Intercedes
The queen, who was sitting beside her husband, now spoke for the first
time. "Sire, it were a pity that such good yeomen should die, if they
might in any wise be pardoned." "There is no pardon," said the king.
She then replied: "My lord, when I first left my native land and came
into this country as your bride you promised to grant me at once the
first boon I asked. I have never needed to ask one until to-day, but
now, sire, I claim one, and I beg you to grant it." "With all my
heart; ask your boon, and it shall be yours willingly." "Then, I pray
you, grant me the lives of these good yeomen." "Madam, you might have
had half my kingdom, and you ask a worthless trifle." "Sire, it seems
not worthless to me; I beg you to keep your promise." "Madam, it vexes
me that you have asked so little; yet since you will have these three
outlaws, take them." The queen rejoiced greatly. "Many thanks, my lord
and husband. I will be surety for them that they shall be true men
henceforth. But, good my lord, give them a word of comfort, that they
may not be wholly dismayed by your anger."
News Comes to the King
The king smiled at his wife. "Ah, madam! you will have your own way,
as all women will. Go, fellows, wash yourselves, and find places at
the tables, where you shall dine well enough, even if it be not on
venison pasty from the king's own forests."
The outlaws did reverence to the king and queen, and found seats with
the king's guard at the lower tables in the hall. They were still
satisfying their appetites when a messenger came in haste to the king;
and the three North Countrymen looked at one another uneasily, for
they knew the man was from Carlisle. The messenger knelt before the
king and presented his letters. "Sire, your officers greet you well."
"How fare they? How does my valiant sheriff? And the prudent justice?