The Son of Robin Hood: Sorting Out the Real History and the Hollywood Myths

The Son of Robin Hood: Sorting Out the Real History and the Hollywood Myths

Everyone knows the guy in the green tights. Robin Hood is the ultimate archetype of the noble outlaw, but things get messy the second you start asking about his kids. Did he actually have a family? Most people assume Robin and Maid Marian just rode off into the sunset or died tragically in a priory, but the legend of the son of Robin Hood has been floating around for centuries, and honestly, it’s a weird mix of Victorian fan fiction and mid-century Hollywood cash-ins.

If you’re looking for a birth certificate in a 13th-century parish register, you’re gonna be disappointed. Robin Hood himself is a composite of various "Robehods" and "Hobbehods" found in English legal records. So, naturally, any talk of his offspring is grounded more in the evolution of storytelling than in hard archaeology. Yet, the idea of a "Junior" Hood has been remarkably sticky in our cultural memory.

Where the idea of the son of Robin Hood actually comes from

History isn't just dates. It's stories. For a long time, the earliest ballads like A Gest of Robyn Hode didn't even mention Maid Marian, let alone a kid. Robin was a bachelor. He was a yeoman. He hung out with the boys in the woods and caused trouble for the Sheriff of Nottingham. It wasn't until the 16th century that writers started "gentrifying" Robin, turning him into the Earl of Huntingdon. Once you make him a Noble, you need an heir. That’s just how the medieval mindset worked.

The most famous version of the son of Robin Hood didn’t come from a dusty scroll. It came from a 1928 novel by Paul A. Castleton, appropriately titled The Son of Robin Hood. This book basically set the template. It focused on a character named Robert, who has to live up to the massive shadow cast by his father. It’s a classic "burden of the legacy" trope. It’s about identity. It’s about whether heroism is something you’re born with or something you choose when the world gets cruel.

But wait, it gets weirder.

In 1946, Cornel Wilde starred in a movie called The Bandit of Sherwood Forest. In this version, Robin's son is named Robert of Nottingham. He comes back from schooling in France to find that England is, once again, a total disaster. The movie was a massive hit for Columbia Pictures. Why? Because post-WWII audiences loved the idea of a new generation taking up the fight against tyranny. It felt relevant. It felt like a passing of the torch.

The 1958 confusion and the gender flip

There is a 1958 film literally titled The Son of Robin Hood. But here’s the kicker: the "son" is actually a daughter named Deering Hood. The plot is basically a 1950s version of a "Mulan" story. Robin’s allies are waiting for his son to lead them, but when a girl shows up instead, they have to deal with their own prejudices while fighting the usual corrupt regents.

  • It was directed by George Sherman.
  • It starred June Laverick and Al Hedison (who later became David Hedison).
  • The movie leaned heavily into the "disguise" trope that was popular in Shakespearean comedies.
  • It's a prime example of how the "Son of Robin Hood" title was often used as a bait-and-switch by studios to get people into theater seats.

Honestly, it’s a bit of a marketing gimmick. But it shows that the name "Robin Hood" was such a powerhouse brand that even his hypothetical kids were worth a feature film.

Why the legend persists despite no historical evidence

You won't find a "Robert Hood Jr." in the Middle English Lyrics of the 14th century. So why do we keep trying to give him a kid?

Part of it is our obsession with "what happens next." We hate endings. We want the Merry Men to be a dynasty. In the original folklore, Robin Hood’s death is pretty bleak. He’s bled to death by a treacherous cousin (the Prioress of Kirklees). There’s no mention of a son coming to avenge him. It’s just... over.

But the Victorian era changed everything. Writers like Howard Pyle and later novelists wanted to sanitize the stories. They wanted family values. By giving Robin a son, they turned a rebellious, sometimes violent outlaw into a family man. They made him part of the "system" he was supposedly fighting against.

Modern interpretations like the 1991 Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves or the BBC series have played with the idea of Robin’s lost family, but they usually keep the focus on Robin himself. The "son" remains a secondary character or a plot device to show Robin's vulnerability. He's the stake. He's the reason to keep fighting when the arrows run low.

Real-world namesakes and the "Robert Hood" problem

If you look through the Rotuli Litterarum Clausarum (the Close Rolls) from the reign of King John and Henry III, you see the name "Robert Hood" pop up a lot. It was a common name.

  1. A Robert Hod was a fugitive in Yorkshire in 1225.
  2. A Robyn Hode was a porter to Edward II in 1323.
  3. None of these guys are confirmed to have had "famous" outlaw sons.

Basically, the "son" is a literary invention. But that doesn't make him less "real" in terms of cultural impact. When we talk about the son of Robin Hood, we’re talking about the endurance of the myth. We’re talking about how every generation needs to reinvent the hero to fit their own problems.

The Son of Robin Hood in comic books and pulp fiction

The 20th century was obsessed with legacy characters. Think about Phantom, Zorro, or even Batman. It makes sense that Robin Hood would get the same treatment. In the 1950s, there were several comic book runs that featured Robin's adventures with his son. These were usually lighthearted, episodic stories.

They followed a strict formula. Robin is older, maybe a bit slower, and the son is the brash, hot-headed youth who needs to learn that "robbing from the rich" requires more than just a fast draw—it requires strategy. It’s basically a medieval superhero comic.

Examining the "Actionable" side of the legend

If you’re a writer, a historian, or just a nerd for English folklore, there are actually a few things you can do to track down the "real" story of this lineage.

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Visit the sites (The "Maybe" sites):
Go to Kirklees Priory in West Yorkshire. While the "grave" of Robin Hood is likely a later fabrication (the inscription has some suspicious spelling), the site itself is central to the legend's end. It’s where the lineage supposedly stopped.

Read the actual sources:
Stop relying on Disney. Read The Lytell Geste of Robyn Hode. It’s tough going if you aren't used to Middle English, but it gives you the raw, unpolished version of the character before the "son" was ever a glimmer in a screenwriter's eye.

Look into the "Earl of Huntingdon" claim:
Research David of Scotland, 8th Earl of Huntingdon. Many 16th-century writers tried to link Robin Hood to this real historical figure. If Robin was an Earl, his "son" would have been a major political player in the Scottish and English courts. It’s a fascinating rabbit hole of real genealogy clashing with total fiction.

The Verdict on the Son of Robin Hood

The son of Robin Hood is a ghost. He's a shadow. He doesn't exist in the historical record, and he barely exists in the original folklore. He is a creation of the 20th-century entertainment machine, designed to extend a franchise that had already been running for 600 years.

But that’s okay.

Folklore is supposed to grow. It’s supposed to evolve. Whether he’s Robert of Nottingham, a daughter named Deering, or just a nameless kid in a 1950s comic, the "son" represents the idea that the fight for justice doesn't end with one person. It’s a multi-generational struggle.

If you want to dive deeper into the actual historical figures that might have inspired the Robin Hood myth, your best bet is to look into the work of historians like J.C. Holt or Joseph Hunter. They did the heavy lifting in the 19th and 20th centuries to separate the man from the green leggings.

Next Steps for Researching the Legend:

  • Check the British Library archives for the "Sloane Manuscripts," which contain some of the oldest Robin Hood snippets.
  • Analyze the 1946 and 1958 films back-to-back to see how gender roles and "legacy" shifted in just one decade of cinema.
  • Investigate the "Robin Hood's Grave" site on Google Earth to see the geography of the Blackmoor area where the legend supposedly concluded.
  • Read "Robin Hood" by J.C. Holt for the most definitive academic take on why we keep making up stories about Robin's family.

The story isn't about whether the kid was real. It's about why we want him to be. We want the hero to live on. We want the bow to be passed down. And as long as there’s a Sheriff to fight, someone will probably keep writing stories about the son of Robin Hood.---