I’ve already remarked on Scott’s Ivanhoe in the thread (#35) – to point out that his version of the RH legend, located in the early 13th century, conflicts with the currently prevailing historiographic consensus of an early 14th century character, when it is much less credible to claim motivation of popular resentment against the Normans – who were fairly well socially integrated by then. What I don’t know is what sources underpin Scott’s version of the legend.

I’ve also tried to hint that making “evil” King John one of the background villains in the received tale was perhaps considered more socially acceptable than locating RH in the reign of the eccentric Edward II in the 14th century.

But regardless of the historiography, I’m committed to arguing that the theme of rob-the-rich-to-pay-the-poor in media presentations of the legends, including the ballads, has served as an insidious model for various criminal gangs, including Frank and Jesse James, Bonnie and Clyde and the true-life Mafioso in Scorsese’s movie: GoodFellas (1990). There are several real examples in Britain too, some current or very recent. The motivation is that making side pay-offs is an effective model for buying cover and protection in poor communities from law enforcement authorities.

Walter Scott’s Ivanhoe http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ivanhoe
is responsible for locating Robin in the reign of King John and also for introducing / combining the theme of the resentment of the older Anglo-Saxon populace against the invading Normans and their laws (particularly the ban on hunting) with the bad government of King John. Fifty years ago or so virtually everyone had to read Ivanhoe in school.

Robin Hood resists bad government. That is supposed to be a bad thing?

In the end, though, he bows to “the rightful king”—i.e., the one with the mandate of heaven.

Scott was a conservative, by the way—or at least a Burkean moderate.

Not that in real life the people of Northern England didn’t have reason to complain of Norman rule. Or all Britain of the continued immiseration and famine and disease (not only in Ireland) that accompanied industrialization and land enclosure. Not to mention the onerous ban on poaching (which is why Americans who emigrated here during the 18th c. cling so passionately to their guns.) It’s not surprising that the sense of grievance about all this should have been simmering away in British folklore over the centuries.

On a slightly more serious note, it’s rare and refreshing to see someone thinking about the wave of state violence in the 18th century without going straight to E. P. Thompson and M. Foucault, and explanations based on the concept of a ‘baroque’ early modern transition, with governments facing novel social threats and responding with ever-increasing tyranny. Bad harvests in the North? Could be.

Many years ago, wandering around the graveyard of the Church in Howarth, Yorkshire, where the parson at one time had been the father of the Brontë sisters (Charlotte (1816-55), Emily (1818-48) and Anne (1820-49)), I was taken by the conspicuously (and horrifically) large number of grave stones recording the deaths of infants less than five years old.

This was a case where the Church and the village had all been well preserved because of present tourism generated by the literary fame of the sisters so this manifestation of high infant mortality c. 1800 was therefore more evident than it likely is in other, less preserved Church graveyards. Come to that, the Brontë sisters all had relatively short lives by today’s standards.

Hanging as judicial punishment in England for a wide range of offences, petty and serious, has already been mentioned in the thread. Consider this on the thesis that crime waves relate to cycles in living standards:

“Some thirty-five thousand people were condemned to death in England and Wales between 1770 and 1830, and seven thousand were ultimately executed, the majority convicted of crimes such as burglary, horse theft, or forgery. Mostly poor trades people, these terrified men and women would suffer excruciating death before large and excited crowds.”
http://www.oup.com/us/catalog/general/subject/HistoryWorld/British/19thC/?view=usa&ci=9780192853325

At the first census in Britain in 1801, the population was about 10½ million.

Alan Lomax’s Folksongs of North America has an American one that begins, “When Phoebus had melted the shackles of ice/ and likewise the mountains of snow/ Bold Robin Hood, that archer so good/ Went a-frolicking about with his bow, brave boys,/ A frolicking about with his bow.” It’s very pretty. The first verse, I mean, at any rate.

I think I dimly remember from college days that the medieval Robin Hood literature (popular plays and the like) was not so political but merely comic and erotic. A sort of medieval vaudeville. That is my recollection—perhaps wrong. It is curious that political themes begin to appear in the 18th century. Could it have been a reaction to contemporary events? Land enclosure, for instance?

If I were looking for a children’s book about Robin Hood, I would seek out one with text based on the ballads (18th c.), just for the sake of historical not accuracy really but continuity.

Of course, I remember the Richard Green series—it was shown here—with nostalgia. Am planning to but some of the DVDs to give as Christmas gifts next December.

As far as Bob B., I can only answer:

“Why come ye hither, redcoats?
Your mind what madness fills?
There is danger in our valleys,
There is danger in our hills.
Oh hear ye not the ringing
Of the bugle wild and free?
Full soon you’ll hear the singing
Of the rifle from the tree.

cho: For the rifle, for the rifle.
In our hands will prove no trifle.

Ye ride a goodly steed,
Ye may serve a foreign master;
Ye forward come with speed,
But ye’ll learn to back much faster,
When ye meet our mountain boys
And their leader, Johnny Stark,
Lads who make but little noise,
Lads who always hit the mark!

Have ye no graves at home
Across the briny water,
That hither ye must come
Like bullocks to the slaughter?
If we the work must do,
Why the sooner ‘tis begun,
If flint and trigger hold but true,
The quicker ‘twill be done!—Song of the Bennington Riflemen

We can only speculate about the official motives for introducing this savage sentence for high treason but our ancestors were evidently wiser than is commonly supposed. If hanging was a regular judicial sentence for a wide range of crimes on conviction, such as petty theft as well as rape, robbery and murder, it was presumably appreciated that some extra refinement of deterrence was essential for especially heinous crimes, such as treason. We have an old saying relating back to those times which illustrates the perverse incentive effect: “Might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb.”

My favourite, documented story relating to hanging, drawing and quartering:

In 1447 five men had already been hanged, cut down while still alive and stripped ready for quartering when their Royal pardon arrived but the hangman refused to return their clothes – a legitimate perk of his job – so they were obliged to walk home naked.
[source: entry for Tyburn in: Weinreb and Hibbert (eds): The London Encyclopaedia (1993)]

Which only shows how ancient is the tradition of custom and practice in British trade unionism.

#46: “the British are a bunch of nationalist wankers who are willing to overlook almost any sin for a guy who is willing to stick it to the French”

I know of no source linking RH legends with the wars in France. More to the point, RH legends link him with lingering popular resentment against Norman rule in the north of England and associated insurgency there for well established historic reasons:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harrying_of_the_North

And the obvious reason that there are so many movies stories and such-like about Robin Hood is that a) he was clearly doing a good thing b) his supposed lifestyle is clearly very romantic and c) the British are a bunch of nationalist wankers who are willing to overlook almost any sin for a guy who is willing to stick it to the French.

I think you are getting a little too hung up on the “facts” about Robin Hood and ignoring the only important thing about him, which is the story. Isn’t that what this historiography thing is meant to be all about?

Compare Richard Whittington (1354-1423), a regular subject of pantomimes in London during the Christmas season:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dick_Whittington#Dick_Wittington_-_Pantomime_character

Why no movies about Dick Whittington, who is surely a better role model than RH?

“Also, I think we should ban Guy Fawkes Night.”

C’mon. Guy Fawkes (1570-1606) was a true-life terrorist caught setting up gunpowder charges to blow up the Houses of Parliament at the state opening in November 1605. Guy Fawkes night is a celebration of uncovering the conspiracy and the capture of the conspirators. Recent estimates, based on the amount of gunpowder, show the consequences of the plot would have been devastating:

“Guy Fawkes could have changed the face of London if his 1605 plot had not been foiled, explosion experts have said. His 2,500 kg of gunpowder could have caused chaos and devastation over a 490-metre radius, they have calculated. Fawkes’ planned blast was powerful enough to destroy Westminster Hall and the Abbey, with streets as far as Whitehall suffering damage, they say.”
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/sci/tech/3240135.stm

I mean, come on Bob B, the popular story of RH (as opposed to whatever the “truth” might be) has a bunch of people defending their land from slave-holding, French invaders who usurped their king and stole all their money. This is the right thing to do. It’s like a mediaeval Red Dawn. We need to send this message wide and clear, not worry about its implications for social stability.

I’ve already admitted that I’ve no personal expertise in the histiography of RH. My concern is the likely social consequences of the serial media presentations of the legends. For comparatively recent developments in the histiography, try the links suggested in #11 and #12.

As best I can tell, media presentations of the legends tend to locate RH in the early 13th century, during the reign of “evil” King John, whereas the currently prevailing consensus histiography puts RH early in the 14th century during the reign of (the eccentric) Edward II, who met with an unfortunate demise. A glaring problem with the 14th century version is that popular resentment in England against the Norman ascendency had rather worn off by then as the descendents of the Norman families, who came over with William, Duke of Normandy, in 1066, had become assimilated. We therefore need to find an alternative credible motivation for the reported frictions between the RH gang and the Sheriff of Nottingham.

I certainly wouldn’t suggest that the RH legends are the basis of an original prototype for gang behaviour but mythical legends may be influential and consider just how many popular media dramas, targeted on young audiences, are located in the medieval period. For many folk, media presentations of RH legends are very likely the principal or only source of popular knowledge about the history of medieval England. And that is a pity because features of later English history are rooted in that period.

I’ve not dwelt so far on the wider significance of RH’s reported archery skills, which may have been a factor explaining the persistence and popularity of the early RH ballads.

The English were good at archery with long bows, an inexpensive technology, the effectiveness of which depended on regular practise. This was a critical factor in victorious battles in wars in France – Crecy (1346), Poitiers (1356) and Agincourt (1415). Archery practise was officially encouraged:

“Cause public proclamation to be made,” declared an Act of 1369, “that everyone of said City of London strong in body, at leisure times and on holydays, use in their recreation bows and arrows.” Popular amusements such as handball and football were banned on pain of imprisonment.
[Entry for “Archery” in Weinreb and Hibbert (eds): The London Encyclopaedia (1993)]

The interesting insight is that the authorities in England were evidently not concerned about the prospect of any number of practised, skilled and armed archers wandering around – and the long bow is a very deadly weapon in skilled hands. There seems to have been no fear that the prevalence of trained archers might constitute a threat to political stability in England – or become a potent cause of crime.

I personally suspect that this points to a deeper structure, in which the adult man fulfills his duties to ‘natural justice’ by providing for the tribe/longhouse/mead-hall/whatever, through hunting and activities analogous to hunting, such as raiding, rustling, purloining property of others in some way… I confess my instinct is to pursue this line of reasoning across multiple cultures (at least Geat and early English, optionally Nuer, Bedu, Timawa and others) rather like Fraser, but that I acknowledge arguments raised against this mode of armchair anthropology.

Whether this structure can be overcome by repeated applications of propaganda against criminal organisations and their methods, I do not know.

Note: no sign of redistibution, ‘merriness,’ heroic stance or awareness of public reception. The authors could have called these attitudes a ‘pirate code’ or ‘Spartan values’ with at least as much accuracy. Actually, now I think about it, these might be the core values of the Kissinger doctrine. In any event, I think we can dismiss the paper’s relevance to the current discussion.

Arguably, the conflicting narratives of the various presentations suggest that historic detail is an insignificant consideration in relating the legends.
Or they may simply reflect the way Robin stories come down to us. Which historical details would you like to choose?

Fictional Robins quite clearly represent archetypes of popular action and social frustrations. I think this is what you object to: I also think it’s why Robin stories keep coming back, while Admiral Sir Sidney Smith, for instance, slips into obscurity: no narrative ‘hook.’ If you’re in the US, you probably get fed a line about how glorious it is to rebel against tyrannical governments that don’t represent your interests, complete with legendary, heroic figures who are presented uncomplicatedly as being identical with actual historical persons. This very narrative crops up again in Star Wars, for instance. Does it foster revolutionary impulses?

There is a vast difference in prescriptive outlook between media presentations of violence by gangs who practised this MO between, say, Scorsese’s GoodFellas (1990) and the Errol Flynn version of one Robin Hood movie (1938), where RH is charactised as a heroic outlaw aristocrat rather than the more usual upstart peasant with a grudge against the Normans and a flair for charismatic leadership and archery.

The Scorsese movie does not convey a suggestion that emulation would be a good idea, whereas most media presentations of the RH legends foster an impression that RH is a heroic role model and emulation would be glamorous. Arguably, the conflicting narratives of the various presentations suggest that historic detail is an insignificant consideration in relating the legends.

bob b: #37 “Perhaps I could add that there is nothing new about my concerns regarding the social values depicted in popular visual media representations of the RH legends.”

“McCarthyism was permeating every state and every occupation, sometimes ridiculous, sometimes frightening, sometimes bordering on the incredible…In Indiana, Mrs. Thomas J. White, a member of the State Textbook Commission, charged that ‘there is a Communist directive in education to stress the story of Robin Hood. They want to stress it because he robbed the rich and gave it to the poor. That’s the Communist line. It’s just a smearing of law and order.’

“[Indiana] Governor George Craig declined comment and State Superintendent of Education Wilbur Young announced that he would reread Robin Hood to consider the merits of Mrs. White’s charge. The 1953 Sheriff of Nottingham, England, William Cox, was more definite. ‘Why, Robin Hood was no Communist,’ he said.” (Eric F. Goldman, The Crucial Decade-And After: America, 1945-1960, (Vintage Books, New York, 1960) 258-59.)

Shortly after I saw Harry’s essay, I was reading the book cited above (which I had picked up from a used book bin at our local supermarket. People donate books, the store “sells” them for a suggested donation of $2.00, and the money goes to the Juvenile Diabetes Foundation.) The episode related by Goldman seemed relevant to this discussion, thus this comment.

With respect to the TV series, I recall its 1955 US debut, and that we watched it frequently. I was surprised, and somewhat alarmed, to learn that the last episode was produced in 1960, because I remembered (or thought I remembered) watching it in later years. Dementia praecox? I thank the various commenters who mentioned the re-runs.