Book III: Ballad I: The More Modern Ballad of Chevy Chace

"For Witherington my heart is woe,That ever he slain should be:For when his legs were hewn in two,He knelt and fought on his knee."

"The dint it was both sad and sore,He on Montgomery set:The swan-feathers his arrow boreWith his hearts blood were wet."

"To drive the deer with hound and hornEarl Douglas had the bent."

"Of fifteen hundred archers of EnglandWent away but fifty and three;Of twenty hundred spearmen of Scotland,But even five and fifty."

He attributes Flight to neither party, as hath been done in the moderncopies of this ballad, as well Scotch as English. For, to be even withour latter bard, who makes the Scots to flee, some reviser of NorthBritain has turned his own arms against him, and printed an edition atGlasgow, in which the lines are thus transposed:

"Of fifteen hundred Scottish speirsWent hame but fifty-three:Of twenty hundred EnglishmenScarce fifty-five did flee."

God prosper long our noble king,Our lives and safetyes all!A woefull hunting once there didIn Chevy-Chace befall;

To drive the deere with hound and horne,Erle Percy took his way;The child may rue that is unborne,The hunting of that day.

The stout Erle of NorthumberlandA vow to God did make,His pleasure in the Scottish woodsThree summers days to take;

The cheefest harts in Chevy-ChaceTo kill and beare away.These tydings to Erle Douglas came,In Scottland where he lay:

Who sent Erle Percy present word,He wold prevent his sport.The English Erle, not fearing that,Did to the woods resort

With fifteen hundred bow-men bold;All chosen men of might,Who knew full well in time of needeTo ayme their shafts arright.

The gallant greyhounds swiftly ran,To chase the fallow deere:On munday they began to hunt,Ere day-light did appeare;

And long before high noone they hadAn hundred fat buckes slaine;Then having dined, the drovyers wentTo rouze the deare againe.

The bow-men mustered on the hills,Well able to endure;Theire backsides all, with speciall care,That day were guarded sure.

The hounds ran swiftly through the woods,The nimble deere to take,That with their cryes the hills and dalesAn eccho shrill did make.

Lord Percy to the quarry went,To view the slaughter'd deere;Quoth he, Erle Douglas promisedThis day to meet me heere:

But if I thought he wold not come,Noe longer wold I stay.With that, a brave younge gentlemanThus to the Erle did say:

Loe, yonder doth Erle Douglas come,His men in armour bright;Full twenty hundred Scottish speresAll marching in our sight;

All men of pleasant Tivydale,Fast by the river Tweede:O cease your sports, Erle Percy said,And take your bowes with speede;

And now with me, my countrymen,Your courage forth advance;For there was never champion yett,In Scotland or in France,

That ever did on horsebacke come,But if my hap it were,I durst encounter man for man,With him to break a spere.

Erle Douglas on his milke-white steede,Most like a baron bold,Rode formost of his company,Whose armour shone like gold.

Show me, sayd hee, whose men you bee,That hunt soe boldly heere,That, without my consent, doe chaseAnd kill my fallow-deere.

The first man that did answer make,Was noble Percy hee;Who sayd, Wee list not to declare,Nor shew whose men wee bee:

Yet wee will spend our deerest blood,Thy cheefest harts to slay.Then Douglas swore a solempne oathe,And thus in rage did say,

Ere thus I will out-braved bee,One of us two shall dye:I know thee well, an erle thou art;Lord Percy, soe am I.

But trust me, Percy, pittye it were,And great offence to killAny of these our guiltlesse men,For they have done no ill.

Let thou and I the battell trye,And set our men aside.Accurst bee he, Erle Percy sayd,By whome this is denyed.

Then stept a gallant squier forth,Witherington was his name,Who said, I wold not have it toldTo Henry our king for shame,

That ere my captaine fought on foote,And I stood looking on.You bee two erles, sayd Witherington,And I a squier alone:

Ile doe the best that doe I may,While I have power to stand:While I have power to weeld my sword,Ile fight with hart and hand.

Our English archers bent their bowes,Their harts were good and trew;Att the first flight of arrowes sent,Full four-score Scots they slew.

As Chieftain stout and good.As valiant Captain, all unmov'dThe shock he firmly stood.

His host he parted had in three,As Leader ware and try'd,As soon his spearmen on their foesBare down on every side.

Throughout the English archeryThey dealt full many a wound:But still our valiant EnglishmenAll firmly kept their ground:

And throwing strait their bows away,They grasp'd their swords so bright:And now sharp blows, a heavy shower,

They closed full fast on everye side,Noe slacknes there was found;And many a gallant gentlemanLay gasping on the ground.

O Christ! it was a griefe to see,And likewise for to heare,The cries of men lying in their gore,And scattered here and there.

At last these two stout erles did meet,Like captaines of great might:Like lyons wood, they layd on lode,And made a cruell fight:

They fought untill they both did sweat,With swords of tempered steele;Until the blood, like drops of rain,They trickling downe did feele.

Yeeld thee, O Percy, Douglas sayd;In faith I will thee bringe,Where thou shalt high advanced beeBy James our Scottish king:

Thy ransome I will freely give,And this report of thee,Thou art the most couragious knight,That ever I did see.

Noe, Douglas, quoth Erle Percy then,Thy proffer I doe scorne;I will not yeelde to any Scott,That ever yett was borne.

With that, there came an arrow keeneOut of an English bow,Which struck Erle Douglas to the heart,A deepe and deadlye blow:

Who never spake more words than these,Fight on, my merry men all;For why, my life is at an end;Lord Percy sees my fall.

Then leaving liffe, Erle Percy tookeThe dead man by the hand;And said, Erle Douglas, for thy lifeWold I had lost my land.

O Christ! my verry hart doth bleedWith sorrow for thy sake;For sure, a more redoubted knightMischance cold never take.

A knight amongst the Scotts there was,Which saw Erle Douglas dye,Who streight in wrath did vow revengeUpon the Lord Percye:

Sir Hugh Mountgomery was he call'd,Who, with a spere most bright,Well-mounted on a gallant steed,Ran fiercely through the fight;

And past the English archers all,Without all dread or feare;And through Earl Percyes body thenHe thrust his hatefull spere;

With such a vehement force and mightHe did his body gore,The staff ran through the other sideA large cloth-yard, and more.

So thus did both these nobles dye,Whose courage none could staine:An English archer then perceiv'dThe noble erle was slaine;

He had a bow bent in his hand,Made of a trusty tree;An arrow of a cloth-yard longUp to the head drew hee:

Against Sir Hugh Mountgomerye,So right the shaft he sett,The grey goose-winge that was thereon,In his harts bloode was wett.

This fight did last from breake of day,Till setting of the sun;For when they rung the evening-bell,The battel scarce was done.

With stout Erle Percy, there was slaineSir John of Egerton,Sir Robert Ratcliff, and Sir John,Sir James that bold barrôn:

And with Sir George and stout Sir James,Both knights of good account,Good Sir Ralph Raby there was slaine,Whose prowesse did surmount.

For Witherington needs must I wayle,As one in doleful dumpes;For when his leggs were smitten off,He fought upon his stumpes.

And with Erle Douglas, there was slaineSir Hugh Mountgomerye,Sir Charles Murray, that from the feeldOne foote wold never flee.

Sir Charles Murray, of Ratcliff, too,His sisters sonne was hee;Sir David Lamb, so well esteem'd,Yet saved cold not bee.

And the Lord Maxwell in like caseDid with Erle Douglas dye:Of twenty hundred Scottish speres,Scarce fifty-five did flye.

Of fifteen hundred Englishmen,Went home but fifty-three;The rest were slaine in Chevy-Chase,Under the greene woode tree.

Next day did many widdowes come,Their husbands to bewayle;They washt their wounds in brinish teares,But all wold not prevayle.

Theyr bodyes, bathed in purple gore,They bare with them away:They kist them dead a thousand times,Ere they were cladd in clay.

The newes was brought to Eddenborrow,Where Scottlands king did raigne,That brave Erle Douglas suddenlyeWas with an arrow slaine:

O heavy newes, King James did say,Scottland may witnesse bee,I have not any captaine moreOf such account as hee.

Like tydings to King Henry came,Within as short a space,That Percy of NorthumberlandWas slaine in Chevy-Chese:

Now God be with him, said our king,Sith it will noe better bee;I trust I have, within my realme,Five hundred as good as hee:

Yett shall not Scotts nor Scotland say,But I will vengeance take:I'll be revenged on them all,For brave Erle Percyes sake.

This vow full well the king perform'dAfter, at Humbledowne;In one day, fifty knights were slayne,With lords of great renowne:

And of the rest, of small account,Did many thousands dye:Thus endeth the hunting of Chevy-Chase,Made by the Erle Percy.

God save our king, and bless this landWith plentye, joy, and peace;And grant henceforth, that foule debate'Twixt noblemen may cease.

To drive the deere with hound and horne,Douglas bade on the bent;Two captaines moved with mickle mightTheir speres to shivers went.

"O Christ! it was great greeve to seehow eche man chose his spereand how the blood out of their brests