Spindly yew trees dot Derbyshire’s lush countryside and often serve as backdrops for ornate garden statues. Photograph by Michael Boys/CORBIS

 

 

In the print edition writer Ricky Binet befriends a Briton named Phil during an English beer-tasting jaunt. Online he shares further adventures with his new mate.

One day my friend Phil got away from his wine shop outside Manchester, England, and we drove southeast into Hathersage, a small village in Derbyshire. Phil pushed his VW van around tight corners while pointing out the hills covered in brilliant purple heather.

“Where are we headed?” I inquired.

“To a church.” Hurray, I thought. I haven’t seen enough of those. Phil sensed my disappointment.

“Someone for you to meet. You’ll like this.”

“Who is it?” I asked.

“You should know this person. Well, know of him. He’s the most famous sidekick of all time.”

Picturesque Hathersage, where, according to folktales, Little John and Robin Hood are buried. Photograph by John Heseltine/CORBIS

We came upon a quaint old parish chapel. The chapel’s stones were clean and well cared for, with a little donation bucket hanging just inside the entrance. Outside there were stone tombstones lying flat on the ground against each other like floor tiles. Some of the dates went back to the 17th century. Some were too old to read.

I followed Phil to an unusually large grave away from the others. Two tall trees grew at each end of the grave and met each other’s branches overhead like a pair of hands folded in prayer.

“They’re yew trees,” Phil said.

“Didn’t they used to make those famous longbows out of yew trees?” I asked.

“Read the marker.”

It read: Little John. “Is this for real?” I asked.

“Sure it is. Why wouldn’t it be? They think Robin Hood is buried in an unmarked grave in another chapel’s yard south of here.”

Riding back to Phil’s home I grappled with the authenticity of what I’d seen. I realized Phil really believed Little John was buried there. I had always held dear the folklore of Robin Hood and Little John’s exploits. Since childhood I had considered them an English version of early American patriots. Ethan Allen. The minutemen.

Lately I had begun to realize that my grade school experience was probably the last in a dying breed of childhoods, where teachers taught U.S. schoolchildren about how wonderful some of the original American heroes had really been. Maybe in England they still taught their children to love and cherish their heroes.

—Ricky Binet

Ricky Binet is an aspiring novelist and professional baseball player.